


But Who Are You?

by Silvergray1358



Series: Screw Them, I Love You [3]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Bottom Peter Parker/Top Wade Wilson, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Coming In Pants, Coming Out, Coming Untouched, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Deepthroating, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Frottage, Gun Violence, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Kissing, Lingerie, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Protective Tony Stark, Relationship Reveal, Riding, Smut, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Tony "holy frick that was actually nice" Stark, Torture, Villian of the week, Virgin Peter Parker, possessive wade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-15 20:59:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14797856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvergray1358/pseuds/Silvergray1358
Summary: Things are changing for Spiderman and Deadpool; moving in together, revealing their relationship, and attempting to take their sex-life to home base, you dig? It'd be stressful enough, except there's a new executioner in the streets and the evidence is pointing right towards everyone's favorite Merc With A Mouth. Featuring: Mystery Villain of the Week, A Damsel in Distress, An Unexpected Team-Up, and your Classic Love Story.





	1. Breaking the News

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everybody! This series is back, and I'll be posting a new chapter every other day at the latest. 
> 
> Italicized = Character Thought  
> {{ }} = Yellow box  
> [[ ]] = White box

     McSorley’s Old Ale House was usually crowded, but it was hopping this particular Thursday night. Wade had to push through the throngs of hipsters and middle aged men nestled around the bar at the front so he could make it towards the back. No one paid the man dressed in dark jeans and a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up any attention while he shuffled through the sawdust on the ground.

     It was easy to spot clean-cut Steve Rogers sitting at a corner table, where four beer glasses stood on the ancient, wooden slab table. At McSorley’s, when you ordered a beer, it always came in _two_ pint glasses, and you could only order either light or dark ale because the Irish pub had been serving their own brew since before prohibition. Even the black and white portrait of John McSorley himself with his magnificent, sculpted mustache watched over the bar.

     Wade slid into the chair across from Rogers. Steve was in a long sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans with work boots. Despite how completely like a ‘civilian’ he was dressed, that ‘Captain America’ air about him couldn’t be squashed.

     “Thanks for meeting me here, Wade,” Rogers said as he pushed two of the sweating mugs of dark ale across the table to the mercenary.

     “When you said McSorley’s, I just had to see it for myself. Captain America in this prehistoric dive? This your usual drinking hole, Spangles?”

     “Well, no, I don’t really do much drinking, but my father sure did his fair share here,” Steve said as he lifted one glass up and gulped down half of it in one swig. The glass looked like a toy in his large, super-soldier hand. For not doing much drinking, he sure could put them back.

     Wade took a drink himself before curiosity got the best of him. “Well, don't keep me on the edge of my seat, Rogers. What was so important you just HAD to meet me somewhere to talk?”

     Steve looked serious as he placed his drink back down. “Some things have gone down in the past week, and I thought that it would be prevalent for you to hear,” he explained. Something about this gave Wade a bad feeling in his gut.

     “Word on the street,” Rogers started, his face stern as he leaned in close so the crowd wouldn’t overhear, “is that there’s an individual that’s been very busy cutting down some not so innocent people in the shadows.”

     “You mean, like baddies?”

     {{Ooooo, sounds like fun!}} Yellow squeed.

     [[It’s been so long since we’ve un-alived someone,]] White sighed.

     “You could say that,” Steve smirked. “What I’ve gathered from the reports, is that there were two separate incidents in the past week. Both involving an attack on local, mutant gang hideouts. Both with multiple deceased on the scene, all either shot or cut with what appears to be a long, smooth blade.”

     “Wait, wait, wait,” Wade said as he dropped his mug back down to the table. “You’re saying that someone is going around murdering mutants with a sword?”    

     Rogers nodded, giving the room a once-over before continuing. “The first was last Saturday, Lower East Side. Cops found four men, all in their early 20’s executed in their apartment-turned-drug house. Besides the ten kilos of cocaine they found, the real product being moved was hidden under the floorboards. MGH.”

     “Mutant Growth Hormones? Are people really insane enough to still be making that shit?” Wade asked incredulously. The kind of people that liked to experiment with mutants were the kind at the top of the merc’s shit-list.

     “It would appear so, and the same story on Tuesday. This time in Hell’s Kitchen, a low-grade warehouse disguised as a marijuana farm but just like the before, the authorities found more MGH along with five dead bodies this time.”

     “Well, to ME, it sounds like someone’s doing SHIELD’s job for them. The streets are better off without that shit, you know it’s fucking true Rogers, don’t say it’s not,” Wade defended sourly.

     “Look, Wilson, I get it. As leader of the Avengers, I’ve read SHIELD’s file on you, so I know that _you know_ better than anyone around that when it comes to human-mutant experimentation, things needed to be taken seriously. They’ve already asked both Stark and I to glance at this case, but without any witnesses or security camera footage--  _anything_ to find out who’s cleaning house-- we don’t have any leads and that can be dangerous.”

     Wade shifted in his seat. The last thing he liked was his past being dragged up, but at least Rogers seemed to get it.

     “Was it you?” Steve asked suddenly, an eyebrow raised.

     “What?!”

     {{How dare he!}} Yellow gasped.

     [[He's finally gone senile in his old age.]]

     “I'm just saying,” Steve replied casually as he picked up his mug again, “if you were to confide in me, I'd be able to help you.”

     “Look Gramps, it wasn't me. Although it does sound like something Wade Wilson would have been ALL about a couple years ago, I've been painfully good. Just ask Spiderman.” Wade took a swig from his beer, slamming down the empty glass before he looked back at Rogers, who was watching him suspiciously. Whatever Rogers saw though must have been enough because he shrugged nonchalantly and continued.

     “I figured as much, but Tony on the other hand…”

     “Oh, I'm soooo fucking shocked. That asshole spends his every waking moment of the day either swimming in his giant vault of gold coins or planning on how to get rid of me for good.”

     Steve just politely smiled at that. “He does seem to be a bit more pissed at you than normal the last few weeks…”

     Wade looked away awkwardly.

     “You know,” Steve started. “He seems to be adamant that you and Spiderman are a couple.”

     Well, fuck, the cat was out of the bag. There was no point lying to Captain America, after all.

     “Yeah, well, even a broken clock’s right twice a day,” he confessed.

     “So it is true,” Steve confirmed. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

     “Yeah, yeah. Surprise, surprise, I know. It’s uh, almost been two months now.” Wade was fiddling with the glass of beer, but not actually drinking it, just watching the liquid and foam swirl around as he swiveled the mug.

     “It sounds serious,” Steve said. He was clearly prodding but Wade felt that Cap was actually earnest about it.

     “I mean, fuck, he’s just… perfect, you know? He laughs at my dumb jokes, he’s so goddamn smart too. He even doesn’t mind the scars, like, _honestly_ , and come on, how could he get anymore fucking perfect than that?” Wade said with a sigh.

     “Then why do you sound so sad about it?”

     “I don’t know, I just… He’s moving in on Sunday and I just can’t help but think…” Wade pondered as he stared into the depth of his glass.

     “Think what?” Steve said softly.

     “That somehow the universe is just waiting to give me a big ole’ fuck you anytime now. That maybe, I don’t know, that he’ll change his mind or something…”

     “Well, I know it’s none of my business,” Steve started, pausing for a brief moment to polish off his drink. “But during that fight against Mole Man’s minions in Crotona Park, I saw how much he truly cared for you, Wade. Spiderman isn’t the type of person to fake that. You two make a fantastic team,” he finished, looking very sincere.

     Wade knew that what Rogers was saying was true. If Peter said that he wanted to move in, then he must have meant it. At least hearing Cap say how much Peter must care for him made him glow with pride and helped ease his doubts.

     "Don’t worry,” Steve reassured as he gave Wade’s shoulder a friendly slap. “I won’t say anything to Tony, but that doesn’t mean he won’t find out soon enough on his own. You know how he is.”

     “Why are you doing this? Telling me all this, and covering my back…” Wade asked, his voice heavy with uncertainty. Sure, Rogers may be the only Avenger he actually didn’t mind helping, but why would he go out of his way like this?

     “In case you forgot, I actually owe you big time for saving me back in the Bronx. The least I could do was give you a head’s up. Besides, you and Spiderman work nightly on the streets. You’re way more likely to see something than I am. I figure we could both benefit.”

     Yeah, Rogers was pretty okay.

     “Fine, I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” Wade said. He extended his hand and was happy when Steve shook it with a nod.

     “Same to you.” Steve got up from his seat, walked over to the barkeep to hand him a twenty, and then tossed Wade a head-nod before slipping back out to the darkening street.

     Wade finished his drink and headed out. Peter was probably waiting for him.

 

     ~*~

 

     Peter was a nervous wreck. He waited at the university’s massive cafeteria, tucked away in the corner booth that he, M.J. and Ned sat at everyday after everyone got out of their afternoon classes. He could feel his heart race as he ran over and over in his head what he planned on saying. Really, how hard could it be telling your friends that you were gay… and in a relationship… and about to move in with said individual…

     Okay, he didn’t have a clue what to do.

     He picked nervously at his french fries, not actually hungry, but grateful he had something to fiddle with as he waited for his friends.

     “God, you look terrible,” M.J. said as she slipped into the booth across from him, scaring the daylights out of him so badly it was a miracle he didn’t jump out of his seat and cling to the wall.

     “And you’re jumpy as hell. When you said you needed to talk to us, I didn’t think it was this serious,” she said playfully as she placed down her plastic tray. She had gotten a chocolate milk and four pieces of bread, toasted.

     “Yeah, well… where is Ned anyway?”

     “He’s staying a little late to help tutor that Jessica-girl he’s been going on about for weeks.”

     “What? Really? Wow… good for him,” Peter said impressed. He had told Ned to go for it when his friend had basically melted while describing this girl from his computer engineering class, but he never thought that Ned would actually pull through.

     “Yeah, it is,” M.J. observed. She grabbed the small butter packets and tried warming them up in her hands. “He told me though to start without him. So spill it, what are you hiding over there, Peter Parker?”

     Alright, so it was now or never. He tried to remember what he had planned but it seemed like he was going to have to do this on the fly.

     “Okay, so, I have like, two crazy things to tell you, and truthfully? It might seem kind of out of the blue…” he tried.

     “Let me guess, you’re dating someone?” she said calmly as she tipped the little, opened plastic container of butter on the stack of toast.

     “What?! How do you? I mean- uh, yeah…” Peter stammered, flabbergasted.

     “Honestly? You’ve been super aloof lately. Even Ned told me you haven’t been online to play games in like, _weeks._  Obviously you’ve been seeing someone.” Her face left zero argument as she took a bite of her toast. It was definitely eerie how observative Michelle could be, but at the same time it was one of her more endearing traits as well.

     “Well...you got me there.” Peter complied with a nervous chuckle. At least that part was over.

     “Now, while I have a thousand questions, which you are going to answer all of, Parker,” she said seriously even though there was a hint of a smile on her face still, “what was the second thing you wanted to tell me?”

     Peter just blurted it out. “I’m moving in with them.”

     “Like, to live with?”

     “Yeah…”

     “When?”

     “Uh… Sunday.”

     “Okay,” she said, nodding her head, “so it’s serious then. You better start telling me all about her, Parker.”

     Peter immediately blushed crimson red.

     “Actually… it’s a guy.” Peter felt the milliseconds creep by like eternities. M.J. however broke out into a smile like this was the best thing she’s heard all week.

     “Really, now? Holy cow. You’re gay, you’re dating, and you’re moving in with your boyfriend. The trifecta of big news, just wait until Ned hears about this.”

     “Well, I mean, technically I’m bi, but I get what you’re saying. I know this is a lot to hear, but I had to tell you both before I moved in,” Peter said, still incredibly embarrassed but sincere.

     “I’m just glad that you finally wanted to tell us. How long have you two been going out for anyways?”

     Peter ducked his head. “Almost two months now.”

     “Two months? I’m impressed with how well you can keep a secret,” she complimented.

     “You’d be surprised,” Peter said distantly.

     “Stop holding back, Peter, come on! Tell me _all_ about him. What’s his name? What does he do for a living? Is he tall and dreamy or geeky like you? Hey!” she shouted as Peter flung a fry at her.

     “Well…” Peter paused, gathering his thoughts. “His name is Wade. Wade Wilson. He’s six-foot-two and very muscular.” He couldn’t believe he was actually gossiping right now about his _boyfriend_. It felt surreal.

     “Sounds like a real tough guy,” M.J. teased with an eyebrow wiggle, still eating her toast.

     “Well, sort of, but he’s very kind too. Really goofy actually, but we’ve both got the same, dumb humor.”

     “Oh no, not another one,” she faked groaned.

     “He uh, used to be in the military but now he’s a security guard for Stark Tower,” Peter recited, exactly like Wade and him had rehearsed. Wade needed a fake job besides mercenary after all and since he technically sometimes worked for the Avengers, it was almost close to the truth. If you counted with a ten-foot pole as kind of close.

     “And what’s he like in the bedroom?” she bluntly asked. Peter almost inhaled the fry he was swallowing but just barely coughed it up in time. “Don’t be such a prude, Parker. You’re moving in with the guy, you must have been in his bed. God, now that I think about it, this means Ned wins the bet.”

     “Wait, what bet?!” Peter demanded once he could breathe again.  

     “I bet Ned that you wouldn’t lose your virginity until _after_ 35, but Ned gave you the benefit of the doubt and said before. I owe him forty bucks now,” she said with a frown.

     If it was possible for Peter to turn anymore red, he would have.

     “Well...I mean… we haven’t sort of…”

     “What?!” M.J. shouted loud enough for a couple students nearby to turn their heads for a second before going back to their conversations. Quieter this time, she added, “You haven’t slept with him yet? What are you waiting for?”

     “I mean, we’ve done other stuff,” Peter defended shyly. “Like, everything else BUT that, it’s just… I think that we’re both just kind of nervous about it.”

     “I guess I can understand that,” she said with a smile, “but to me it sounds like the two of you just need a little push.”

     “Huh? Like what?”

     “Like something to get him to jump your bones,” M.J. laughed. All Peter could do was hang his head in his hands, mortified.

     “Oh God, what have I gotten myself into.”

     “You’re lucky to have someone like me as a friend, Parker,” Michelle advised, taking another bite of toast. “With my expertise on human social behavior, I should be able to pinpoint exactly what you need to do to woo him.”

     “I really wasn’t expecting a crash course on ‘wooing’ today, M.J.,” Peter groaned.

     “No, but you need it anyways. For real though, find out what pokes his buttons; his kinks. Maybe if you surprise him with something he likes, magic will happen.”

     Regardless of how Peter desired to be talking about ANYTHING else than his sex life right now, Michelle did have a point. If he went out of his way to do something special for Wade, maybe he would be convinced into taking things all the way finally.

     “Just think on it,” she continued while Peter thought. “Your first time shouldn’t be forced, it should be with someone special.”

     “He is,” Peter stated. He looked up to see M.J. searching his face. “I love him,” he said quietly.

     “I can’t wait to meet him then,” she smiled. Peter knew he was lucky to have such understanding friends. “How about Saturday then? We’ll do a double date-- Ned and I will be a not-couple and we can both meet this _Wade_ that has stolen your heart.”

     Peter chuckled. “And what are we going to do on this double-date with only one couple?”

     “Laser tag. Duh.”

     “What about laser tag? That’s my favorite!” Ned jumped in as he slid into the booth next to Peter. He had a sandwich on his tray and a beaming smile that Peter guessed Jessica had put there.

     Peter opened his mouth to start, completely uncertain how to begin, but M.J. was already on it.

     “Peter has a boyfriend that he’s moving in with and we’re all going out to laser tag Saturday so we can meet him,” she supplied nonchalantly.

     “Hold up, for real?!” Ned chuckled, but then suddenly gasped. “Wait! Does this mean that I won the bet?”

     Peter slapped his forehead and groaned. His friends were going to kill him with humiliation, no doubt about it.

     At least they were supportive; he was grateful for that. Now he just had to tell Wade.


	2. Just Look at You

     Peter beat Wade back to his apartment and, with exhaustion creeping in, he changed into a comfy pair of thin, cottony sweatpants and a v-neck t-shirt. He realized that the shirt actually belonged to Wade when he looked down and saw Bea Arthur’s face staring back up at him, but he didn’t bother changing. Surely Wade wouldn’t mind. Plus, now that the adrenaline and nerves from worrying about what he was going to tell his friends were finally gone, he felt spent.

     Peter flopped down on the old couch and didn’t even bother turning on the TV. He ran over again and again what M.J. had suggested, already blushing. He was excited about the idea of doing something for Wade, something _sexy_ , but he had no clue where to even begin. Wade’s kinks? God, the way the merc constantly rambled about sex, it seemed like anything and everything could be a turn on in some way or another. All he knew was that he wanted to think up something real special for Wade.

     He contemplated ideas while he laid, one hand up behind his head on the throw pillow, the other fiddling with the bottom hem of Wade’s shirt. He was deep in thought and almost missed the creak of the rickety, wooden back stairs as Wade reached the door to the apartment.

     “Peter?” he called out as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

     “Over here,” Peter replied from the couch. “How did your meeting with Cap go?”

     “Is that my shirt?” Wade gasped as he rounded the sofa and saw the smaller man sprawled out. He froze in the middle of the living room, outright staring.

     “Uh...yeah,” Peter uttered, a little confused. “I thought it was mine but when I realized, I just thought, you know, that you wouldn’t mind too much and--”

     Wade ripped his hood off and Peter could see the hungry way that his eyes roamed over his body. He lost his train of thought and dropped silent as Wade stalked closer to him. Peter shivered and felt his dick twitch in his boxers under that predatory gaze. He nervously wondered if the other man had seen it through the thin material of his pants.

     “Wade?” Peter whispered. His gaze was transfixed on the way Wade closed the distance between them, slinking close until he was crawling over Peter on the couch before he had a chance to sit up.

     “Fuuuuck,” Wade hissed. “I missed you so fucking much today and  _this_ is what I’m lucky enough to have waiting for me at home?”

     Peter was breathless, left shy at Wade’s words. One of Wade’s large, strong hands landed in the middle of Peter’s chest, pinning him down while he kept taking in his fill of the view.

     The light-blue fabric of his shirt went beautifully with the reddening skin on Peter’s cheeks and neck. The v-neck shape of the collar let the lines of Peter’s clavicle peek out and boy howdy, was Wade already planning on leaving hickeys on each side. For symmetry’s sake, of course.

     Before Peter knew it, Wade was kissing him deeply, pressing him into the soft cushions of the couch with his body weight. The way Wade kissed him with his whole soul was intoxicating, but Peter had other plans.

     With a little bit of his super-strength, he flipped Wade down onto the ground and straddled the older man. Wade hit the ground with an _umph_ but quickly recovered and chuckled while he pulled Peter back down into a kiss. Peter couldn’t get enough, trying to map out every inch of Wade’s mouth with his tongue while he kept him pinned with hands on his broad chest.

     His hips were grinding down onto Wade’s, spurring little jolts of pleasure as he rubbed against the hard, denim length of Wade’s cock pressing against his. The friction was addicting, and Peter’s hips kept a rhythmic pace as he kept chasing the feeling.

     He kneaded his hands into those huge muscles beneath him, swallowing down Wade’s grunts while their lips were locked. When he pinched at Wade’s nipples through his grey shirt underneath the black zip-up, he earned a loud moan that made him squirm in Wade's lap. The sound went right down to Peter’s groin and he could feel precome wetting his boxers as he kept grinding.

     With a smooth movement, despite Peter’s hands against his chest, Wade curled upwards to sit, nestling the smaller man in his lap so that tight ass could rub against him in his jeans. Wade wrapped one arm around Peter’s back to keep him pressed closed. The other hand reached up to the side of the Peter's neck and held it firmly in place, his thumb pressing up under Peter’s jaw to make him tilt his head back slightly.

     Wade didn’t waste any time sucking and nipping onto the sweet slope of neck, getting more voracious with each moan that squeaked out of Peter. He could feel the way Peter’s heart pulsed under his lips as Wade attacked the spot along his carotid artery and he tightened his grip harder around his tiny waist while they rocked together.

     {{He looks so mouth-watering in our shirt!}} Yellow moaned.

     [[Let’s see if we can make him come all over it,]] White supplied brilliantly.

     “Fuck yeah,” Wade rasped. He quickly reached down and slipped his right hand down Peter’s sweatpants and got a hold on the hard length inside to pull it out.

     Peter gasped, pulling back from Wade’s mouth to lick his lips and pant hard while Wade's hot, scarred palm wrapped around his cock, pumping in slow and firm movements.

     “ _Uhhhnn_ , Wade…” he whimpered, like he was worried that the older man would stop.

     “That feel good, Peter? Don’t worry, baby boy, I’m not gonna stop,” he reassured as Peter’s hands clutched onto his shoulders in a death grip. “Fuck no, I’m gonna keep going until I wring every last drop out, sweetheart.” He made sure to rub this thumb up to catch the precome and smear it around the sensitive head which drove a soft, keening sound out of Peter.

     Wade kept his hand to a leisurely pace, enough to feel good, but not enough to push Peter closer to the edge and it forced him to try and buck up into Wade’s fist to chase his own pleasure. Every motion made Peter wriggle against Wade’s throbbing cock, driving him crazy. He certainly couldn’t be bothered to stop his mouth from running.

     “So fucking sexy, Spidey. Look soooo good in my shirt, yeah you do. I just had to get my hands on you, _fuck_. Yeah, just like that, Peter, your ass feels so goddamn good against my dick. Bet it’d feel even fucking better inside…”

     Peter cursed under his breath, losing his rhythm as his hips stuttered. His cock was leaking badly now, making Wade’s fist a little slicker and the pleasure amplify. Wade didn’t miss the way that Peter’s thighs and arms started trembling and the deep, ragged gasps that pulled from his chest. He smirked, knowing that Peter was very close and the sight made his own cock flex strongly in the tight confines of his jeans.

     Wade finally tightened his fist like Peter wanted and started jerking him off at an aggressive pace. Kicking the speed up knocked the air out of Peter's chest and his body tensed up as stiff as a board.

     Wade groaned, watching the first pulses of come shoot out as he forced Peter over the edge hard. A few drops of pearly liquid dotted the neckline of shirt, even landing in the hollow of his throat. Most of it though stripped the front of the shirt and dribbled over the fingers of Wade's hand as the waves ended.

     He licked any spot of come on Peter's neck and chest he could find while Peter slowly came back down.

     Peter surprised him by lifting Wade's dripping hand off of his sensitive cock and bringing it to his mouth. The merc felt his jaw drop as Peter started licking off his own come from Wade's large hand.

     Peter resumed grinding his ass down onto Wade's lap and he pulled two of his boyfriends fingers into his mouth. He let his tongue flick around as he suckled, catching all the semen off the rough skin and moaned at the taste.

     Wade felt his brain short-circuit. He came suddenly, absolutely soaking his boxers and jeans but not minding in the least. He yanked his hand back from Peter's lips and pressed his own mouth to his for a messy kiss before needing to breathe again.

     Neither of the pair spoke while they both caught their breath. Peter rested his face in Wade's neck and he could smell the scent of cigarette smoke and sawdust in the dark cotton of his hoodie.

     “You know, you never answered my question,” Peter chuckled eventually. “How did your meeting with Cap go?”

     Wade smiled against Peter's temple, placing a small kiss there. “It was fine, he was just checking in,” he simply stated. “What about you? What did you do all day, Webs?”

     “I met with M.J. and Ned…” Peter began, pulling back to look at Wade while he talked.

     “Oh really?”

     “Yeah, and I finally told them about you, about us moving in together…”

     Wade averted his eyes, ducking his head. Dread filled his heart, making him worry immensely.

     “And how did that go?” he dared to ask.

     “They can't wait to meet you,” Peter beamed as Wade looked up at him. “We're all going out Saturday for laser tag.”

     A quick breath of relief slipped loose from Wade's chest at the wonderful sight of Peter's smile. A hint of a grin crept onto his own face as well. “Yeah? Well, I guess we'll have to make sure not to kick their butts too badly. I want them to actually like me.”

     Peter laughed and pulled Wade back into another kiss.


	3. Diablo Rojo

     Friday classes seemed to absolutely drag on for Peter. He barely paid attention during lectures, using the time instead to shop on his phone. Trying his best not to blush or squirm in his seat as he bashfully looked through a couple of websites for ‘adult products’, he had _finally_ managed to find something that fit what he had in mind. He placed his order and it promised to be delivered the next day to his own apartment. He didn’t want Wade to open it by accident and spoil the surprise. Even when he was done ordering, he still couldn't pay any attention to the professors, too caught up in his own thoughts about the mercenary.

     Thankfully though, classes were over for the day and Peter had even managed to take the subway over to the Daily Bugle to collect his Friday check. Jameson had talked his ear off about local crime rates being through the roof because of that insane Spiderman. All Peter could do was nod and agree politely while the reporter rambled.

     By the time he managed to escape, dusk was already settling into the city. The sun cast long shadows, billboard and neon lights starting to light up the streets, and Peter was antsy to get into his suit and meet Wade for their nightly patrol. He slipped into an abandoned alleyway and pulled his suit out of his backpack and changed quickly. He was only a few blocks away from their normal meet-up on top of the department store a couple blocks from Wade’s apartment, so he stuck his bag high up on the brick wall and started swinging his way there. It’d be easy to swing back for it later.

     The air rushing past him and the stretch of his muscles after a long, slow day felt cathartic as he thwiped from building to building quickly. Just shy of his destination however, he caught the familiar sight of a red and black suit dashing into an alley by foot between apartment buildings.

     “Hey Wade! Wait up!” Peter shouted as he swung over but the merc didn’t seem to hear him. He landed as fast as he could, but Peter just barely caught a glimpse of Wade as the man rounded a corner up ahead.

     “Wade! It’s me! I said wait up!” he called. Why the hell wasn’t Wade listening to him?

     Peter finally ran around the corner, but it was empty. A couple of crumbling stoops led up to rickety back doors of apartments, but there was no one in sight.

     “What the…” Peter whispered.

     “Hey there, Spidey!” Wade said, directly behind him and Peter shouted into the echoing alley.

     “Holy shit, Wade! How did you do that?” he shrieked.

     “Do what?” Wade asked earnestly.

     “Get behind me like that! I was just following you but you didn’t hear me when I called,” Peter explained as his heart rate returned to normal.

     “Silly web-head, _I_ was chasing _you_! I thought you’d never show,” Wade teased as he threw an arm around Peter’s shoulder. “Now, I was thinking. We do a little patrolling, some bad-ass crime fighting, help a couple of old ladies, and then _definitely_ go get tacos. There’s this place in East Harlem called Taco Mix. They're open ‘til four a.m. and they have the best grilled cactus bites that you’ve ever had.”

     Peter laughed. “I’ve never had cactus.”

     “Then you’re in for a real treat!” Wade shouted with enthusiasm.

     On the warm night's breeze, Spiderman’s enhanced hearing picked up the distant sound of screams. It had to be. Maybe even the shouts of two or three people. It was very faint though.

     “Ssssssh,” Peter hushed, quieting Wade as he rambled on about Mexican food. “Wait a second… I think I hear something, come on!” He snagged Wade’s hand and dragged him in the direction he guessed the sounds originated from.

     “Something bad or something good?” Wade asked as he followed quickly behind Peter.

     “I think people are hurt…” he replied, very worried.

     They wove down two more long alleys before Peter finally started to slow down. Wade trailed behind the smaller man, trying to be as quiet as possible so Peter could listen.

     Eventually, the pair stopped outside of the back door to the apartment that Peter was certain the shouting had come from. The door itself wasn’t closed completely and Peter tented his fingers on the door and nudged it open just an inch.

     “Hello?” he called out. “Is there anyone hurt in here?”

     Silence answered them and Peter spun his head back to look at Wade, who just shrugged. He turned back and pushed the door open the rest of the way and the two of them were shocked at the scene before them.

     It was horrific. The door opened to a cramped living room. A corpse of a young man laid out across the sofa, face-down. The man’s clothes were slashed and soaked in blood. Ruby liquid gathered on the dangling fingertips of one hand and dripped into a puddle on the carpet.

     There were two other bodies in the living room and one in the kitchenette area that the pair found as they silently inched inside. One body was slumped against a wall, chin on their chest, next to another man sprawled out on the carpet near a television. There was a clear bullet wound in the latter’s head and a dropped switchblade near his hand. The body in the kitchen had apparently dropped a gun before they too were slaughtered.

     It was gruesome. Blood splattered on the walls and pooled on the floor, making the hot, small space reek of iron. Peter was lost for words as his wide eyes swept the scene. Bongs, ashtrays, scales, small zip-lock bags, and mountains of white powder were spread across the one tabletop in the living room. It was obvious that drugs were being sold here, but who would have done this?

     Peter and Wade kept their footsteps careful, trying to not drag tracks through any of the blood.

     “What happened here?” Wade finally asked.

     “Whatever it was, we were too late,” Peter remorsed.

     Softly in the distance, the sirens of police cruisers were crawling through the streets. Peter’s super-hearing picked the noise up easy and it was possible that they were getting closer.

     “I think someone already called the police… but who?” Peter asked.

     Wade didn’t answer him, just walked over to the body that was propped against the wall. Upon closer inspection, he caught the motion of shallow breathing. It was very subtle, but there was absolutely the slow motion of the man’s chest rising and falling, although not strongly. The guy was still alive but his face was badly beaten and his arm seemed to have a long, deep gash.

     Wade reached out and with a gentle touch, shook the man’s shoulder. “Hey buddy, you awake?”

     With a start, the Latino man shot his eyes open, clutching his wounded arm to his chest protectively and he pulled up his legs away from Wade. When he took in the sight of Deadpool leaning over him, he started screaming.

     “NO! NO, PLEASE!”

     Wade and Peter jumped back in surprise. The man kept shouting though, a mix of rapid Spanish and pleas to not be killed like the others.

     “We’re not going to hurt you!” Peter tried yelling over him. His hands came up in a soothing gesture but the guy was just not having it.

     “DIABLO ROJO!” he shouted frantically, pointing a shaking finger at Wade. He kept screaming in Spanish, sprinkling in ‘diablo rojo’ every other sentence or so.

     “Who me?” Wade asked, pointing to himself.

     “What the heck is he saying? Wade? Don’t you speak Spanish?” Peter asked, but Wade didn’t answer him. The sound of the police sirens were closer for sure now and the probability that the cops coming to their exact spot was getting closer to a hundred percent by the second.

     To the murder crime scene in the middle of a drug dealers hide-out. Not ideal.

     “We need to get out of here, Wade. Something really bad just happened here and it won’t look good if we’re here when the police arrive,” Peter pleaded as he tugged on Wade’s arm, trying to get him to move. The cops were still iffy when it came to Spiderman and Deadpool and the team made it a habit to help on the streets but also keep as low of a profile with the NYPD as possible.

     Wade knew that Peter was right, but he couldn’t move as the man squirmed on the ground, shouting in Spanish.

     “Whoever did this is gone, Wade,” Peter stressed, finally getting the merc to look at him. “The police can take it from here. Come on, let’s go.”

     He dragged the two of them back out the way they came. The piercing sound of the sirens were nearing the block and echoed through the tall alley as they dashed out. Wade pressed himself to Peter’s back and held on tight as the spider crawled up the wall and out of sight.

     The apartment laid in silence besides the creep of the sirens. Now that the two heroes were gone, the corpse on the kitchen ground slinked a hand across the linoleum floor and grabbed the dropped pistol. The body heaved up and the injured man against the wall caught sight and started screaming harder than before, shouting ‘diablo rojo’ over and over.

     The figure closed the distance, raised the gun to other man’s head and pulled the trigger. The muted pop of the silenced pistol ceased the screaming.

     “Don’t worry,” the figure reassured the dead man, “Deadpool will get his soon enough.”

     When the police finally arrived at the scene, they only found three dead bodies.

 

     ~*~

 

     Wade waited until Peter was definitely asleep. He slowly slipped his way out from underneath the smaller man who had finally passed out draped over the merc. With a lot of finesse, he gently laid Peter back down on the sheets where Wade had been as he slid out of the bed. Peter was still completely out, soft snores leaving him as he breathed deep in Wade’s pillow.

     As silent as possible, Wade crept into the living room, closing the bedroom door behind him with a tiny ‘click’. He tiredly dropped onto the couch while he searched through the contacts of his cellphone. When he reached “Cap” he hit call.

     The phone rang three times before Rogers answered. Wade spoke quietly into the empty room.

     “Yes, we were there. We saw it… no, no one was there by the time we got there...but Rogers, he _kept saying_ that it was me… I don’t know either.” Wade paused for a long time while Steve spoke. Eventually he nodded to himself and sighed.

     “Okay, I’ll wait for your call, Cap. Talk to you tomorrow.”

     He hung up the phone and dropped his head, letting it hang as he slouched. Rogers was right, someone was up to no good and getting closer to his neighborhood, nonetheless. All he could do was trust that Steve was going to look into the crime scene tonight and maybe they’d find anything to help explain what the fuck was going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a general question: Anyone else reading the Spider-Man/Deadpool comics right now and clutch their heart in pain as they read issue #32 and tried not to openly weep, or was that just me?


	4. The Gang Hangs Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how long this one took. I had so much to write about for everything EXCEPT this chapter but I finally got it out of my head and down in words.

     Saturday afternoon was blistery and dreary, although thankfully not raining despite the gray clouds. Peter Parker was heading to meet his friends for their ‘double date’ of laser tag and couldn’t help but feel terribly nervous. From down the street, he spotted Ned and M.J. already waiting on the sidewalk outside of the indoor laser tag building off of Queens Boulevard. He shoved his hands deep into his hoodie's pockets and took a steady breath to steel himself. He could do this, no big deal.

     When he managed to get close, his friends finally noticed him. M.J. lifted a hand up to flash a wave and smirk. Ned however, just watched Michelle wave and then drop his gaze back down to the sidewalk.

     “Uh, hey guys!” Peter said as casual as possible. Ned didn't even look at him. It bothered him for a moment, but he tried to brush it off.

     “Sup, Parker,” M.J. replied casually. She was in dark skinny jeans, a big, puffy sweater and her usual Converses. She naturally carried her satchel over her shoulder, which kept her sketchbook that she carried everywhere. 

     Ned, who seemed momentarily fascinated with something across the street, was in his favorite Star Wars shirt, bright-red sweatshirt, blue jeans, and Skechers.

     “Wade should be here any minute. I, um, had to run an errand earlier so I just uh, did that first,” Peter somehow managed to get out of his mouth. There was no way that he was going to tell them he had to run to his apartment to pick up a package from a _sex shop_ which he currently had stuffed in his backpack. Underneath his spider suit nonetheless, extra hidden.

     “No problem, we just got here ourselves, right Ned?” M.J. asked.

     “Huh? Oh yeah, sure,” the other man replied, acting aloof. Ned was definitely behaving strangely. Regardless, there was something that Peter knew he had to mention.

     “Um, look guys, there's one last thing I didn't tell you, and uh… well… you should just know before Wade gets here…” Peter trailed off.

     “Another secret? Really, Parker?” Michelle asked with an eyebrow raised.

     Peter shuffled awkwardly on the sidewalk. “Well, Wade sort of has a skin condition, like all over, from cancer,” he started but when he saw M.J.’s face scrunch up with concern, he tried again. “I mean! He’s healthy now, it’s just… he’s kinda sensitive about it and it can be a little shocking at first…”

     “Ned and I will do our best to make him feel comfortable,” Michelle encouraged. Her face was soft and kind in a way she rarely let be seen.

     “Thanks guys,” Peter breathed out gratefully.

     “Would that happen to be him now?” she asked, nodding her head over Peter's shoulder to make him turn around.

     Sure enough, Peter could see Wade's large form walking towards them. He was dressed in his black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, black jeans and black boots, like he was hoping to be invisible to anyone passing by. Peter could see already from there that Wade's shoulders were tensed up almost to his ears and his hands were crammed into the hoodie's pockets.

     Peter jogged down the sidewalk to intercept Wade.

     “Hey Petey,” the older man said with none of his usual peppiness. His eyes darted over to the pair waiting for them and Peter noticed how Wade's Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped.

     “Hey Red,” Peter smiled. When he grabbed Wade's hand with one of his, lacing their fingers together, the merc gasped and stared at their hands. Peter even thought he saw Wade actually _blush_.

     Peter led the two of them back over to his friends.

     “Wade, this is Ned and M.J. Guys, this is Wade,” he said diplomatically.

     M.J. stuck her hand out to shake Wade's hand. “Michelle Jones,” she offered, “but my friends call me M.J.”

     “Wade Winston Wilson, but my friends call me Hey Fucktard,” the merc answered, continuing to shake M.J.’s strong hand. She actually laughed. Michelle did have a weird sense of humor after all.

     “And this is Ned Leeds,” she supplied, dropping their wildly long shake to slap a hand on Ned's shoulder.

     Ned however, was standing looking up at Wade with a shocked look on his face. M.J. quickly elbowed him in the side.

     “Oh sorry!” Ned nearly shouted. “It’s just you’re huge like a truck! No wonder you’re a security guard for Tony Stark, I bet no one messes with you,” he complimented. Ned did have a tendency to say exactly what was on his mind when he got excited.

     Wade smiled and chuckled as he shook Ned’s hand too. “Yeah well, Stark can use all the help he can get,” he teased.

     When they got inside, they queued up at the counter behind two middle aged women that must have had twenty nine-year-olds running around them, shouting and chasing each other around.

     “Is it a dishonorable win if it's against fourth graders?” M.J. smirked.

     “Heck no,” Wade replied. “If you’ve ever played Fortnite, you’d know how cold-blooded these brats can be.”

     Michelle huffed out a laugh. “Okay, good. You’re on my team then.”

     “Wait, what?” Peter asked.

     “Us two against you two,” she explained, pointing to Peter and Ned. “Whichever team has the lowest score at the end buys the other team soft pretzels afterwards.”

     “Deal,” declared Ned. The two shook hands and Peter just shrugged at Wade, smiling.

     They paid for one game and waited for it to begin. Michelle and Wade were talking to themselves, planning on how they were going to dominate Ned and Peter, so the brunet looked to Ned. The other boy however was still weirdly quiet, like he didn’t feel like talking, so Peter didn’t push him.

     A man of about 45 years old with a receding hairline and thick mustache opened a large metal door and almost got tackled down by the rush of kids pushing past him into the dark room.

     “Please enter everyone for the next game,” he said in the monotone voice of someone who really couldn’t care less. When everyone was inside the dim room lit with black-lights, he began drawling out the rules while the kids scrambled to put on their vests with the laser sensors. Peter hadn’t done this since he was just a little kid, but he managed to get the thick vest on even with it’s convoluted amount of straps and plastic buckles. Wade stepped over to help with the last buckle Peter hadn’t noticed on his side.

     Feeling emboldened by the darkness, Peter raised up on his toes and pecked Wade on the lips. The older man grinned and cupped Peter’s face in his hands to give him a slightly longer, though still chaste kiss in return. Wade’s large hands were warm and Peter felt like melting into the touch, but he pulled himself back together.

     Once inside, it was madness. All of his friends split up in different directions so Peter just picked one way at random and tried to stealth his way through the darkness. He thought maybe that he wasn’t doing too badly, although a boy with light-up sneakers managed to tag him multiple times. About half way through, Peter caught sight of those light-up sneakers again and panicked. He rounded a corner to avoid getting shot and bumped shoulders with someone he hadn't seen.

     “Oh shit Webs, don't frighten a lady like that!”

     “Wade? Wait, we're on opposite teams,” he said, getting ready to slip away.

     “Waitwaitwait!” Wade whispered, pulling the smaller man back. “How am I doing? You know, with Ned and M.J.?” Peter could hear the worry in his boyfriend's voice.

     “You're doing great,” he reassured. M.J. had already warmed up fast to the merc, which usually took her a long time to do. Ned, although acting a little sore with Peter, seemed to be polite enough to Wade. Peter watched as Wade's face seemed to relax.

     “Okay good,” he sighed. “Well, sorry schnookums,” Wade said before tagging Peter's vest at point blank and spinning around the corner.

     “Dammit,” Peter cursed as his vest buzzed and rumbled. He whipped around the corner to retaliate, but Wade had already disappeared in the dark.

     He wove his way through the obstacles, unable to find anyone to get a good shot. He could hear on the other side of the large room Wade shout ‘BOO’ and the following shrieks and giggles from a group of kids. Laser tag _would be_ right up Wade’s alley.

     Peter tried taking a left and almost walked straight into Ned.

     “Oh, hi Peter,” Ned whispered sadly as they both hid behind a wall, tucked away as two kids went running by, ignoring the monotone reminders from the balding man that running was not allowed.

     Peter  _needed_ to find out what was bothering his friend and now was as good a time as any.

     “Ned, look, I just wanna ask… are you upset at me for something?” he tried, but Ned averted his eyes. “I'm serious, I can tell something's up. Please talk to me.”

     Another group of screaming kids went rushing by, still oblivious to Peter and Ned's hiding spot.

     "This is about Wade, right?” Peter asked. Ned nodded slowly and finally spoke.

     “I just wanna know why you didn't tell me. I thought we told each other everything. Did you not trust me?” Ned asked earnestly, hurt lacing his voice.

     Was that really what was bothering Ned? He thought Peter hadn't trusted him enough to tell him about Wade? In truth, Peter thought he'd be keeping his friends safe from the Spiderman side of his life. Ned though, _did_ know about Spiderman. He had kept Peter's secret for years even. It was only fair that he explain for his friend's sake.

     “I'm so sorry Ned, it wasn't because I didn't trust you,” Peter started, but Ned still seemed to be a little doubtful. “The truth is… I didn't meet him as Peter, I met him as _Spiderman._ ”

     Ned's eyes went wide. “Wait!” he whispered loudly. “Is he an Avenger?!”

     A tiny laugh slipped out of Peter before he could help it. “No, no, but he does fight crime with me.”

     Ned's jaw dropped with amazement, clearly loving the new information. “So does he have any super powers? Was he also bit by a spider? Does he have a cool suit with a bunch of super tech too?”

     A loud bell went off and the lights suddenly came back on.

     “That's the end, folks,” the balding man announced. “Everyone calmly and slowly head to the exits.” Peter could hear the fleet of fourth graders stampeding over to the doors as they shouted.

     “I promise I’ll tell you everything later,” Peter guaranteed as the pair followed to the exit. Ned smiled and clapped a hand on Peter’s back.

     “Good, cuz I have a lot of questions,” he chuckled.

     “So we good?” Peter hoped.

     “Yeah, we’re good,” Ned agreed. The two of them did their secret hand shake and finally joined the rest of the crowd out in the lobby.

     Michelle was standing triumphantly in front of the flat screen TV displaying the scores. Wade of course was at the top, with M.J. directly below him on the list. The merc himself was currently being climbed on by no less than four kids as he shouted he was the laser champion. M.J. sauntered over, clearly pleased with herself.

     “Alright boys, time to put your wallet where your mouth is.”

     Ned just shrugged and looked to Peter. “It could have been worse at least.” The pair checked the screen. They were both at the bottom. “Oh, never mind.”

     Peter and Michelle got their bags from behind the counter and everyone went back out into the windy street.

 

     ~*~

 

     They ate pretzels paid for by the losing team and strolled down the block. Wade and Ned were walking in front, arguing friendly over the Star Wars prequel movies, so Peter walked behind with M.J. who had put so much mustard on her pretzel he wondered if she could even taste it still.

     “So did you do any thinking about what I said? Come up with any plans, perhaps?” she teased, aware that the two men in front were oblivious to them.

     Peter could feel his face heat up, but he chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, actually.”

     “You did?! Tell me,” she demanded, but Peter laughed harder.

     “Not in a million years.”

     “Oh boo, you’re no fun” she sassed, smiling regardless.

     Wade's cell phone rang suddenly from his pocket and he pulled it out to check. “Oh, sorry, I need to take this. Work, you know,” he said, shooting Peter a look and walking to the corner of the block to talk out of earshot.

     “We have to have a movie night and binge watch all the prequel movies real soon,” Ned declared.

     M.J. started complaining about how nerdy Ned was for liking those films but Peter tuned them out. He watched as Wade spoke into the phone, his face knitted with concentration. Who was he talking to?

     Wade finally strode back over, shoving his phone back into his jeans. “Hey, I'm sorry to be party-pooper, but I have to go. Boss needs to see me.”

     “That’s fine, it’s getting freezing out here anyways,” M.J. replied. “It was nice meeting you finally, Wade,” she said, clearly ribbing Peter. “You’ll be seeing plenty of us now.”

     “Good,” Wade laughed. He walked over to Peter, standing close to ask, “See you at home?”

     “Yeah,” Peter smiled, “I’ll be there.”

     “Good, I promise to make it quick,” Wade said. He leaned down and kissed Peter softly before pulling back and walking away. He turned to wave back to M.J. and Ned who returned the wave happily.

     Peter knew he was blushing, he just had to be, and the knowing smirk M.J. gave him definitely didn’t help things. In spite of his embarrassment at the p.d.a., it felt so nice to be with Wade and do all the little normal things that couples do.

     Now he just had to get home and unwrap that package burning a hole at the bottom of his bag. He wouldn’t have too much time to get ready before Wade got home.


	5. One Caress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, okay. Almost 5200 words later, I don't know what came over me. 0_0

     “Sorry for making you come all the way to Brooklyn,” Rogers apologized as Wade met him at the Brooklyn Bridge Park in front of Pier Number 5. Wade sat across from Cap at one of the umbrella-covered picnic tables. No one had taken the umbrellas down and the wind was whipping at the fabric loudly.

     “Well, just barely. We’re practically still on the bridge this close. I wanted to go to a fun neighborhood where a Jewish mother could cook us matzo ball soup and Gefilte fish while we chatted,” Wade joked, actually earning himself a chuckle out of Cap.

     “Next time then,” he agreed. “I actually know a good place, believe it or not.”

     “Yeah well, for a guy that’s lived in Brooklyn since 1918, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

     Rogers smiled, but it didn’t last long as he turned serious.

     “So I went to the crime scene you and Spiderman found last night,” he began.

     “It’s the same guy, right?”

     “It appears so,” Steve said gravely. “And that wasn’t the only place he hit last night.”

     “What? Are you kidding me?”

     “Sadly no. The first in Port Morris, the second one in Hunts Point, around midnight the coroners are guessing. Three at the first spot dead, and five at the second.”

     “Two in one night? So he’s escalating…”

     “Yes… and there’s something else.”

     “What?” Wade asked impatiently when Rogers hesitated.

     “You’re not going to want to hear this.” Steve stared at Wade and he wondered if it was worry or pity he saw on Steve's face.

     “Just tell me,” he pressed.

     “The MGH that the authorities found, all of it at all the crime scenes, wasn’t the normal formula that McCoy created or any of the other knock-offs that usually float around the streets. It’s been mixed with the DNA of a mutant…”

     “Who’s?” Wade snarled out, already furious.

     “Wolverine.”

     {{THOSE BASTARDS!}} Yellow screamed.

     [[Weapon X…]] White surmised.

     “The lab assistants assured me that the samples of the serum that we found were highly unstable, likely duds, but without actual testing on a person, it’s hard to say. However, this mixture does resemble Killebrew’s earliest notes for the Weapon X formula.”

     “So someone is trying to follow in Killebrew’s footsteps. Redo a dead man’s work.”

     “Yeah, but apparently not very well and someone is killing anyone selling it.”

     {{Something’s fishy…}}

     [[We don’t like it.]]

     “So what’s our plan then?” Wade finally asked.

     “The lab is still running tests on all the DNA and evidence that we picked up last night, so I guess we’ll wait and see what the results are tomorrow. I’ll keep you up to date.”

     “Okay,” Wade agreed. “I’m helping Peter move the rest of his things in tomorrow, but other than that, I’ll be around.”

     Rogers smiled at that, but didn’t say anything about the subject.

     “Safe trip back, Wade, and maybe try to stay low to the ground for a little while. Tony is still hoping to pin this on you.”

     “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said as he got up. “Catch you later, Cap.”

 

     ~*~

 

     Peter was trying not to shake apart at the seams as he ducked into Wade’s empty apartment. He didn’t know exactly how long he had until Wade showed up, he was probably with Rogers now if he had to take a guess. Wade wouldn’t have seemed so willing to go if it had been Mr. Stark. He checked the clock on the living room wall as he walked through and it told him that it was a quarter to seven. He figured he’d likely have no more than an hour but that would hopefully be enough time to get everything ready.

     Peter dashed into the bathroom and began pulling off his clothes while the water ran. It was barely warm by the time he finished, but he jumped in anyways. Wasting no time, he grabbed the bar of soap and began scrubbing himself from head to toe. He even took a shaky minute to reach behind himself, slowly stroking one and then two fingers into his hole. His other hand was splayed on the tiled wall propping himself up, panting harshly, but at least the soap was slick enough to ease most of the burn. He felt the way his cock was starting to swell, but he willed it away as best he could; there was still a lot more he had to do.

     When he got out of the shower, he dried off with the towel and did his absolute best to get his hair as dry as possible. Once it was a complete shaggy mess, the brunet grabbed the plastic comb off the counter and attempted to comb the whole thing down. He fiddled way too long trying to get it neat and not let it get too curly but he finally gave up.

     Towel around his waist, he brushed his teeth, put deodorant on and left the bathroom, carrying his backpack with him. He placed it down on the bed with a weary glance, but decided to leave it for last, already noticing how his heart was pounding.

     Peter went to work. The blinds on the window above Wade’s bed were drawn down fully. He went and grabbed the numerous white candles that he had gotten days ago from underneath the kitchen sink where he had hid them. He carefully arranged them around the room; on Wade’s nightstand, the desk...really any stable, clear spot he could find and lit each one with a tremorous hand. Wade’s iPod was placed on its dock on the night stand and Peter readied the volume and song.

     Now that the room was done, Peter turned slowly back to his bag on the bed.

     The package that he pulled out from inside the bag, hidden away, was discreet and not too large. Peter tried not to notice the hot burning in his cheeks as he got it open.

     A matching set of black, silk panties and hosiery rested neat and folded, wrapped in red tissue paper inside.

     With only a slight quake in his hand, he plucked out the underwear and unfolded them. He figured that they couldn’t be so different from the briefs that he sometimes wore, although he preferred boxers and these were _certainly_ skimpier than any briefs that he owned.

     He was surprised how the material fit snug and cozy on his waist and hips and how pleasurable the silk felt on his skin. The thought of how Wade’s rough hands running over the material would feel was intense and Peter tried not to get distracted.

     He was much more apprehensive about putting on the pantyhose. He had certainly never put a pair of these on before and he was worried that the feminine article would look ridiculous on his male body. At least they were as smooth to the touch as the underwear and before he could second guess himself, he put them on. The fabric reached up to mid-thigh and Peter didn’t dare look down at himself to see how the lingerie looked together.

     Last but not least he went over to Wade’s recliner in his room where a piece of clothing was draped across the back. It was the merc’s favorite sweater; a red pullover that was large and ancient, with ‘Wham!’ written across the front in black, bold lettering. It felt soft to the touch and as Peter slipped it on, the comforting scent of Wade eased his anxiety. The top was big on him, but Peter felt less exposed with it on. He had remembered how much the older man had liked seeing him wear his other shirt, so he hoped he could get the same reaction. He shuffled to the bed and sat at the foot, fiddling with the top of one thigh-high.

     Peter could hear the door to the apartment open and his heart started beating furiously again.

     “Peter?” Wade called out.

     “In here!” he replied although he suddenly wished he could run back into the bathroom and change. He didn’t have a chance to get cold feet though because Wade was pushing the bedroom door open the rest of the way and stopped in place in the doorway, blocking any potential escape.

     Wade couldn’t believe what he was seeing at first, completely shocked. He had to be dreaming, or at least hallucinating…

     {{Nope! So much better!}}

     [[Is he wearing our Wham! sweater?!]] White gasped.

     {{LOOK AT THE LACE!}} Yellow shouted.

     “Oh holy fucking shit,” is what Wade actually managed to breathe out.

     Wade couldn’t stop staring, not that he was truly trying if he was honest with himself. Peter was sitting at the foot of his bed, lit warmly by the dozen candles flickering around him. His beautifully slender legs were clothed in shimmery black silk, the stockings coming to a stop mid-thigh with a thick band of lace at the top to hug the muscle and keep the garments in place. Just a little peek of the ivory skin there was exposed before the bottom hem of Wade’s red sweater landed. The aged cotton of the oversized sweater draped over the smaller man in a way that the collar threatened to slip off one shoulder. Wade desperately wanted to run his hands all over the fabric, just to feel the way Peter’s body felt underneath the material.

     “What…” Wade started as he took one step further into the room, but he was interrupted.

     “Wait a second,” Peter ordered. Wade watched as Peter turned to stretch up to the nightstand near the top of the bed, and _holy fucking Christ_ he was wearing a tight pair of black panties with a heart-shaped hole in the back, giving the merc a heavenly glimpse of Peter’s creamy ass.

     Wade was so distracted by the sight that he almost missed the sound of music drifting out of the speaker on the nightstand.

     Peter blushed when he turned around and caught sight of the hungry stare plastered on Wade’s face. The notes to “One Caress” picked up and Wade was floored. He was at a loss for words, but Peter thankfully chimed in.

     “Candles, Depeche Mode… although no rose petals, but I am wearing red,” Peter said with a shaky laugh. “I figured they would just make a mess anyways…”

     “You did all of this for me?” Wade asked. His voice was deep and gravely, making Peter shiver on the bed sheet. It was like he could feel the way the older man’s gaze lingered on his skin, making goosebumps pop up on the exposed pieces of flesh.

     “I just wanted my first time to be special for both of us,” he confessed, incredibly shy but determined to keep eye contact with his boyfriend.

     Wade moved right up into Peter’s space at the front of the bed, nudging a knee at Peter’s thighs to spread them and stand in between his parted legs. He caught sight of those tight, little panties again, stretched over Peter’s groin.

     “You sure you want this, baby boy? You really want me to pop your cherry?” Wade purred.

     Peter had to crane his neck up to look at his face and Wade’s left hand came up to grasp the side of his neck firmly. With his right, he began unbuttoning his jeans, pulling the fly down right in front of Peter’s face.

     The boy’s gaze flickered to Wade’s hand and gulped as he looked back up. His eyes were half-lidded and lustful in a way that had Wade’s cock nearly rock hard already just from the gorgeous sight before him.

     “Yes,” Peter breathed. “I’m sure.”

     “Prove it to me,” Wade challenged, testing how far he could push the younger man. “Open your mouth,” he ordered and pulled his hard length out from his boxers, holding it in his fist.

     Without being told, Peter eagerly began lapping at the tip of his cock, his tongue hitting Wade’s index finger where it rested right underneath his frenulum. Wade hissed and his cock throbbed in his tight grip.

     Peter wasted no time wrapping his lips around Wade’s cock, bobbing his head to make Wade let go as he took a little more in with each slide. Wade groaned and tightened his grip to the back of Peter’s neck, just holding him in place by the shorter hair at the base of his skull. Peter panicked for a moment when Wade pushed himself in deeper and completely blocked his airway. His body reacted to the intrusion and he almost gagged as his throat constricted around the tip of Wade’s cock.

     His hands flew up to Wade's hips but he barely grazed them before Wade was pulling back out. Peter fisted his hands into the black jeans on his hips, not letting him step back too far.

     “Wait,” he rasped out. “Let me try again.”

     “ _Shiiiiiit_ ,” Wade groaned.

     {{He looked so beautiful gagging on us, come on,}} Yellow pleaded.

     [[Fuck his throat,]] White craved.

     Peter attempted again, sliding back down Wade’s wet cock, loving the way the textured skin felt on his tongue. Wade’s hand tightened in his hair and this time Peter tried to will his gag reflex back down. It took full willpower to let Wade slowly fuck the back of his mouth, getting used to the lack of air and trying to sneak oxygen when Wade pulled back enough.

     It was dizzying to realize how much he liked this. Peter could feel his own erection pressing hard against the smooth material of the lingerie but he kept his hands grasped onto Wade’s hips in case he needed to push him back. The way that Wade was talking didn’t help his pleading cock either.

     “God dammit, Peter, such a fucking good boy for me. You like being mine? Wearing my clothes? Taking my cock? _Unnngh_ , oh shit that feels good. Can’t wait to fuck that ass. Is that what you want?” Wade rambled.

     Peter used what little oxygen he had to spare a moan at the thought and he could actually feel the way Wade’s length twitched against his tongue from the vibration.

     Wade pulled out of Peter’s mouth right away and cool air flooded back into the smaller man’s chest.

     “Lay on the bed right now, sweetheart. I’ve gotta get my hands on you,” Wade commanded and Peter pushed himself up the sheets with jittery muscles. He got a chance to watch though as Wade ripped his jacket off and reached up behind his neck to grab his t-shirt and pull it off over his head. His jeans and boxers went next and Peter excitedly took in the sight of Wade naked in front of him.

     Wade watched as Peter’s eyes roamed, his mouth parted as he breathed softly, and Wade hurried to crawl up onto the bed over him to kiss those red lips. With one hand on the sheets to hold himself up, he used the other to touch everywhere he could. The aged cotton of his Wham! pullover felt sensuous over the planes of Peter’s chest and stomach, lush and satiny over hip bones and ribs. Peter arched up into his touch, trying to melt their bodies closer together and Wade slipped his hand underneath the fabric to press a hand to the small of Peter’s back to keep him close.

     Needing more skin against his, he pulled back enough to wrestle the top off of Peter, messing his neat hair up beautifully and landing somewhere across the room. It was impossible to resist kissing the smile off of Peter’s face with a demanding press of lips, but Wade finally managed to pull himself away for real.

      He reached over to the nightstand to fetch the bottle of lube. Prize in hand, he wiggled down the bed a smidge, kneeling. He snagged his fingers under the elastic hem of those tiny, black panties and pulled them down over Peter’s narrow hips. With the garment gone, he had a breathtaking view of his boyfriend while he parted Peter’s legs wide on the bed with his hands and indulged in the feel of the silk on the boy’s skin. He popped the bottle cap open and began slicking up the fingers on his right hand.

     Peter seemed to be breathing heavy, and Wade placed his dry hand in the center of Peter's chest. He could feel the rapid beat of his heart underneath the bones and Wade rubbed this thumb over the smooth skin there to help ground him while he reached down between Peter’s legs to touch the small hole there. His slick index finger ran over the ring of muscles getting him nice and wet.

     Peter shook with the initial touch and bit his lip, but he tried to keep still for him while he started breaching the muscle just so. Wade was watching him intently, scanning his face and Peter felt completely exposed.

     “You know why I love you?” Wade asked casually as he eased his finger in, slower than necessary by far.

     “W-What? Why?”

     “Because of the way you pretend you don’t snore at night.”

     “Huh?” he gasped.

     “And the way you always stop at Golden Girls when you find it on the TV for me even if we’d already seen it,” he added while pressing in even deeper. “And how just being near you makes all the noise inside my head quieter.”

     Peter was silent, too overwhelmed by both Wade’s actions and his words.

     “And the way that you never thought of me as less than human.”

     “And how you teach me to love myself more everyday.”

     Wade’s finger was completely inside now and he bent over and began licking Peter’s cock. The younger man started moaning exquisite, deep sounds that Wade pulled from him while he worked his experienced mouth just like he knew Peter liked. It was a reassuring sign which he took as a cue to keep pushing on to a second finger. He suckled at the sensitive head of Peter’s cock to help distract him as his middle finger slipped in with the other one and forced him open even more. Still, Peter wasn’t a stranger to having two of Wade’s broad fingers by now and his heavenly mouth was more than enough to contrast the initial discomfort.

     Wade took a moment to tease Peter, pulling his mouth off to catch his breath. Wade let his fingers enjoy the silky feeling of the walls inside of the him, scissoring the rim instead of searching out Peter’s prostate. The boy below him squirmed and whined, but Wade slid his other hand down Peter’s abs and held onto his hip. Peter stopped trying to force himself further down on Wade’s hand and moaned low as he submitted to the ministrations and let Wade work.

     The dominant side of Wade purred at the submission and he rewarded Peter by taking him back into his mouth and deepthroating his cock.

     “Wait, Wade! I’m r-really close,” Peter warned in a tight voice. Wade however didn’t stop sucking him or scissoring the fingers in his ass.

     “No no no, please Wade, I’m gonna come,” he rushed out, like it was a bad thing. His hands came up to clutch Wade's shoulders and he pulled his mouth off with a smile.

     “That’s the point, baby boy. An orgasm should help you loosen up even more before I fuck you.”

     Peter whimpered, still so close to the edge. Wade’s mouth was back on his cock though and the tight heat was too good. It only took a couple of laps of Wade’s tongue against his slit before he was coming into his mouth.

     Wade happily drank down all that he could pull from Peter and finally let his cock rest back down on his abs. He kept his fingers inside Peter though to keep his rim stretched open.

     While Peter laid sprawled on the sheets trying to catch his breath, Wade pressed three of his large fingers together and began nudging his fingertips in. It was still tighter than Wade would have hoped, but with a little patience they worked in smoothly and he kept pressing them in a little further every time he rocked his hand.

     Keeping his hand inside Peter still, Wade went to reach for a condom in the drawer next to him but Peter put a hand on his arm and stopped him.

     “I… I don’t w-want you to use that,” he explained.

     “Are you sure?” Wade asked. It was true that he couldn’t get any illnesses that he could pass on and it wasn’t like Peter had been with anyone else, but he still felt like it was necessary to double-check.

     “Yeah, I wanna be able to feel your skin.”

     Wade’s heart twisted up and he swallowed around the thickness in his throat, not trusting himself to speak for once.

     He withdrew his hand gently from inside Peter and got the slick again to get himself wet. After, he draped himself back over his small boyfriend, kissing him for a second.

     “You think you’re ready?” Wade whispered softly against Peter’s lips. Peter gulped, his brows knitting together as his chest hitched.

     “Y-Yes,” he stammered. His eyes blinked rapidly and Wade felt him shiver underneath him. It was obvious that he was scared but Wade ran his hand up and down the side of Peter’s body underneath him to massage out the shivers.

     “I will be as gentle as I can, Peter. I swear, baby boy. I just need you to relax for me as much as possible and it’ll start to feel good real soon. That’s it, Spidey, stay nice and relaxed,” he praised. “Anytime you need me to stop or slow down, you tell me. Okay, Peter?”

     Peter nodded and pulled Wade down closer for a kiss. He went happily, trying to soothe him with a deep, loving kiss. He angled his hips so that his cockhead was pressed against Peter’s entrance. Wade waited until he nodded in affirmation at him before starting to press forward against the resistance.

     The head of his cock finally breached the tight ring and Peter instantly tensed up like a board under him. A strangled gasp shook out of his chest before it locked up and his eyes scrunched close at the new stretch.

     “Keep breathing, Peter, remember? That's right, gorgeous,” Wade instructed. Peter's rib cage seemed to unlock finally and his chest heaved, nipples hard and pebbled as the pectoral muscles flexed over the stretch of bones underneath.

     Wade rocked his hips, inching in a centimeter at a time. He slipped a hand down between them and kept his slick thumb rubbing at the bloodless rim stretched around his cock, easing the burning as much as he could for Peter.

     Peter's head was tipped back on the pillow, the strong outline of his jaw framing the slope of his neck. Wade watched the way his throat bobbed while he gasped for air. The boy's fingers were entwined in the sheets beneath him in a death grip and Wade's eyes were glue to the way his chest heaved while Wade worked the rest of his cock forward until the last bit eased in.

     Peter felt like fucking _heaven_ inside. The furl of muscles created a ridiculously tight rim to push through, but his walls were burning hot and slick, twitching around where Wade was fully seated, making Peter's body adjust to him inside.

     “That’s it, baby boy, that’s all of it,” Wade whispered.

     When Peter realized that Wade's hips were pressed flush against his ass, he tilted his head back down quickly, his face completely etched in shock. Wade could see the way that tears were clinging to his eyelashes.

     “Fuck, Peter, are you okay? Do you want me to pull out?” Wade asked fretfully, but Peter was already shaking his head.

     “No, please, Wade,” he begged. His voice was shaky and soft, like he couldn’t breathe but his arms lifted up to cling tightly to Wade’s back. Peter's spread legs lifted up to squeeze around his hips even though Wade could still feel how the muscles in his thighs shook with the effort. “It’s already starting to feel better,” Peter offered even as a tear escaped and slid down the side of his face into his hair. “Just please, don’t go.”

     This was clearly a lot for Peter to handle right now, and Wade could tell that it wasn’t entirely from the pain and discomfort. Peter seemed so very small and precious in his arms, overwhelmed and trembling as he let Wade take him apart like this. He wanted nothing else in the entire world other than to keep the younger man safe, and loved, and cared for-- whatever it took to keep him happy.

     “I’m not going anywhere, Peter. I promise. We’ll give it a minute. Alright, sweetheart?” Wade reassured as their foreheads touched. Peter was nodding against him and Wade nodded back before pulling him into a kiss. He tried to keep Peter guessing as he kissed him; sometimes breaking away to nibble softly at his bottom lip or licking the roof of his mouth-- anything to help distract him from the ache of Wade pressed inside him.

     Wade had bottomed before, although a _long_ time ago, but he remembered what had helped for him. Once he felt the almost painful clench of muscles start to relax, he wiggled his hips slightly, knowing that the small movements would actually help the pain.

     He couldn't stop watching Peter's face as he tried to rock into him gently, attempting to get him used to the sensation. Little gasps left Peter's parted lips with every nudge of Wade's hips, but he stared at Wade with wide, trusting eyes. Wade just braced his weight on his forearms and elbows, using one hand to stroke Peter's face with his thumb; along his pink cheekbones, the outline of jawbone, and the soft, plush curve of his lips. Peter simply kept his gaze locked on Wade's face, eyes still shiny but the lax way his body melted into Wade's thrusts reassured him that at least enough of the pain had ebbed away.

     “Look at you, so fucking perfect. That’s right, baby boy, how does that feel?” he asked sincerely, savoring the way Peter’s eyes fluttered at the endearment.

     Peter swallowed down the dryness in his throat, and Wade tracked the movement of his tongue as he wet his lips.

     “I didn’t realize it’d feel like this,” he admitted. “It’s so much but… it feels good. You feel good,” he breathed out.

     Wade reached down underneath Peter’s hips to tilt him up a little higher in his lap, bending him in a bit but allowing Wade to get a much better angle while he rolled his hips. He didn’t dare move quickly yet, but he made sure to rock in as deep as possible. The slow pace felt maddening yet so exquisite at the same time, and Wade forced himself to keep steady.

     He made an effort to aim consistently at Peter’s prostate. Every time he moved in a way that felt especially good for Peter, he could feel how the muscles around his cock would flex and squeeze. Shocked, tiny moans were creaking out of Peter and Wade caught sight of the way he was staring at their hips-- as he watched the way Wade slid in and out of his own body.

     “That’s right, Peter, look at the way you opened right up for me,” Wade groaned out.

     He watched Peter toss his head to the side, trying to hide his bright-red face in the pillow. His adorably large ears were just as flushed with blood and the blush had crept all the way down to his collarbones. Regardless of attempting to hide, his voice got louder and Wade felt himself throb inside Peter at the wanton mewls that graced his ears.

     “You gonna come for me again, baby boy?” Wade asked curiously while reaching between them to wrap his hand around Peter’s flushed cock. “You think you can come on my cock like this?”

     “Fuck, Wade. Yes!” he shouted with a gasp, both at Wade's question and out of thankfulness of the attention on his aching length. The dual sensations of Wade’s scarred hand stroking him and the incredibly full pressure of his cock against his prostate was profound.

     “Fuck yeah, that’s it, Peter. I’m so close but I gotta feel it while you come. You first, love.”

     Peter’s eyes were wet and he hiccuped through a moan. He started whispering ‘ _I love you’_ s' under his breath and Wade pressed him in on himself further to seal their mouths together.

     Peter’s orgasm jolted through him, almost bucking Wade off as his body spasmed. His knees crushed Wade’s ribs as Peter’s legs squeezed and shook around his sides with a little too much super-strength. Wade could only groan as Peter’s walls clenched and contracted around his dick, combining with the erotic sight of the younger man’s cock twitching and painting his own chest and abs with his own come.

     Wade gave two thrusts that were a little sharper than before and came hard as Peter gave a fucked-out groan beneath him.

     Wade's hips twitched as he rode through the waves of his orgasm and he panted at the way his hot come made everything so much slicker as he moved.

     The two of them breathed in each other's air while the aftershocks faded away. When he figured Peter had leveled out, he slid back out of him, pecking kisses on his sweaty temple. The boy still hissed at the feeling but Wade nuzzled the side of his face and whispered.

     “One second, baby boy. I'll be right back. I'll clean us up, just one second.”

     Peter let his limbs unwrap from around him and Wade kissed him briefly before hurrying off to the bathroom for a washcloth.

     Every muscle felt drained in Peter's body and before he knew it, Wade was crawling back into bed over him. He cleaned him up with soft wipes of the damp cloth and Peter drifted while Wade looked after him.

     Wade arranged him in the bed; Peter’s face pressed into his chest as he wiggled in close and wrapped his arm around Wade. The even sounds of breathing eased to a deep sleep and Wade stayed up for a long time, listening to the man in his arms breathe while the last of the candle flames snuffed themselves out in the liquid wax.


	6. Wade?

     Wade had been about to head out with Peter. They were going to make their way over to his apartment for the last time. Peter had said he was just about done packing but there were still a few things left to carry over. Before they made it down the back steps of Wade’s apartment though, his cell phone rang in his pocket.

     It was Rogers.

     “Wade? I’m glad I got a hold of you,” he sighed.

     “I was just heading out. What’s up?”

     “Falcon and I are at a new crime scene, just a couple of hours fresh. I _need_ you to come meet us right now, Wilson.” There was an uneasy sense of urgency in his voice. Peter next to him gave a quizzical look but Wade tried to keep the concern off his face.

     “Please, Wade,” Rogers begged, “I wouldn’t be asking right now if it wasn’t an emergency. Suit up and I’ll text you the address. There’s something that you need to see.”

    Cap hung up.

    “Who was that?” Peter asked.

    “Just Rogers,” he said. “He asked me to come meet him right away. Something that he needed to show me…”

    “Is everything alright?” Worry slipped over his young face and Wade decided that there was still no reason to get Peter all mixed up in this. Whatever it was, Rogers and him would put an end to it.

     {{Yeah, plus we’d have to come clean...}} Yellow added.

     [[And you’re still too much of a coward to tell him about Weapon X.]]

     “Yeah, everything’s fine,” he lied. “I promise I’ll be as quick as I can.”

     “No problem,” Peter said. One hand came up to rest on Wade’s shoulder as he stood on his toes to place a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll get started and you can come meet me whenever you’re done. Maybe we can even stop for pizza to bring back for dinner. You know, from that place you like next to the laundromat?”

     Peter smiled and Wade couldn’t resist leaning back down for a real kiss this time. He poured his heart into it to show Peter his appreciation.

     When he pulled back he saw a flush high on Peter’s cheeks. To be fair, he had blushed at the drop of a dime all morning, still shy from last night.

     “You’re so amazing, you know that?”

     Peter laughed. “Yeah, a radioactive spider did that.”

     “Naw, the spider doesn’t even deserve half the credit.”

     Peter pulled him into another kiss, still smiling. Too soon, he was pulling back and slowly making his way down the stairs as Wade watched.

     “Call me if you need me, Red,” Peter smirked.

     “I always need you, Webs,” he called out after him. He earned a teasing look back from the smaller man and Wade couldn’t wipe the dumb smile off his face as he went inside to suit up.

 

     ~*~

 

     When Peter finished up taping the last three boxes he sighed, taking one last look around the abandoned room. It had really never been too furnished in the miniscule apartment since he had moved in just over a year ago. Still, completely stripped of all his clothes, books, and photographs, the space felt ghostly. Thinking of Wade in his Bronx apartment, messy but cozy, where Wade made midnight pancakes, played Mario-Kart with Peter whenever he asked, and constantly sung pop music, sometimes even in his sleep…

     Peter knew he wasn’t going to miss this lonely place for even one second.

     A sudden knock on his door made Peter jump. Wade was surprisingly early. Maybe his meeting with Captain America didn’t end up happening.

     Peter stood up to get the door for Wade. “It’s a good thing you’re here so soon, I just actually finished the last… oh.”

     It wasn’t Wade.

     Tony Stark stood in the dingy hallway, dressed in a business casual suit that still must have cost at least ten grand.

     “May I come in?” Tony asked, taking off his yellow-tinted glasses. Peter stepped aside but Tony was already walking past him. He watched as Stark inspected the crummy studio apartment and moving boxes silently.

     “Look, Mr. Stark, I promise I was going to tell you, I was just--” Peter rambled, at a loss for words, but he was quickly interrupted.

     “Oh, I already know that you are moving in with Wilson,” Tony said in a matter-of-fact tone. He finally spun around to look back at a baffled Peter. “Despite how much I think that’s a terrible idea, that’s not what I’m here about.”

     Peter’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he managed to make his throat work. That wasn’t how he had expected that conversation to go.

     “Oooookay… then what?”

     “I actually came to warn you.”

     Peter’s eyebrows raised with skepticism. “From what?”

     Tony dropped his gaze and sighed. “I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but Deadpool has been confirmed to be apart of a recent string of murders.”

     Peter was already shaking his head, about to defend Wade but Stark wasn’t done talking.

     “There is recent security camera footage of him, connecting him to three crimes scenes, all within the past week.”

     “You’re wrong,” Peter started, but Tony just raised his voice and kept going.

     “He’s been going around, slaughtering men that appear to be connected to a new group trying to take over a doctor named Killbrew’s work.”

     “He hasn’t killed anyone in a long time, and he certainly hasn’t been going out taking down gangs. I would know,” he defended.

     “But has your boyfriend told you about Weapon X?” Tony retorted.

     Peter felt himself flush with a combination of anger and embarrassment. He _hated_ how Stark always seemed to hang his knowledge of Wade’s past over his head. His silence must have been enough for Stark, who just closed the distance while pulling out a file from inside his jacket.

     “Do yourself a favor and take this and read it. Maybe afterwards you’ll believe me that Deadpool is behind these killings.” He shoved the file at Peter and made his way to the door. Before he left, he turned to look at Peter once more.

     “Despite what you think... I’ve only ever tried to keep you on the right path--to help Spiderman in a way that I never got at your age. Just… read it.” With that the billionaire closed the door behind him as he left.

     Peter stood alone in the silent room, still holding the file folder in his hand. On the cover was SHIELD’s name stamped along with a title underneath:

     PROJECT WEAPON X.

     It was stuffed full of papers clipped together and polaroids, but the more he thought about it, the less he felt like opening it up.

     If Wade wasn’t ready to talk about it, was it fair of him to snoop? Stark said that it would convince him that Wade was behind the murders, but Peter knew that it couldn’t be true, not when the merc had been with him all week. Except of course when Wade went out to meet with Captain America. Wade never went into much detail about what they spoke about, but was Peter really supposed to believe that he had actually been sneaking out to slaughter gangs? It just didn’t settle right in Peter’s gut.

     His cell phone went off, buzzing harshly in the silence. He pulled it out to see Wade’s name on the screen.

     “Hello? Wade?” Peter asked, worried.

     “Peter? I need to talk to you,” Wade said. His voice crackled with heavy static.

     “Where are you?” It was hard to hear anything over what sounded like wind whipping against the speaker.

     “Something happened. Just suit up and come meet me on top of the Playstation Theater in Times Square.”

     Peter went to ask why, but he heard the line click as it disconnected.

     Something weird was definitely going on, and Spiderman was determined to meet Wade and get to the bottom of it.

 

     ~*~

 

     Deadpool approached the abandoned, brick building in Sugar Hill, the same address that Captain America had sent him. Yellow police tape and a ‘ _Do Not Enter_ ’ sign was plastered across the front doors. Before he could get close enough to try the handle though, a voice called out from the alley next to him.

     Down the side of the building was a metal door propped open and leaning out of it was Falcon.

     “Hey man, down here.”

     In Wade’s book, Sam Wilson wasn’t so bad. Maybe since him and Rogers were so close, the Captain’s patience rubbed off on him because he was always friendly enough to Wade. He also appreciated how Sam was the kind of person who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.

     Wade could respect that.

     Stepping inside put them in a dim hallway. His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he followed Falcon towards a lit doorway at the end. Off-shoot laundry rooms in the dark made Wade guess that this must have been an apartment building long, long ago. Trash and beer bottles littered the floor of the hall, obviously new from the lack of the thick layer of dust that seemed to lay on every dryer, door knob, and light switch.

     As they entered the room, Wade saw Rogers standing in the middle. It was a complete mess. The police had apparently pulled the whole place apart, looking for more drugs he guessed. The bodies were gone and someone had cleaned up the blood, although not well. Dark, reddish-brown stains sprayed out across the walls in two places and large stains were puddled on the floor.

     “Same story as before?” Wade finally spoke.

     “Yeah, same weapons, same drugs, but…” Steve trailed off.

     “What?”

     “This place however-- had a security camera.” Roger’s pointed behind Wade and he spun to find a black camera with a red LED light blinking up in the corner over the doorway.

     “Sam had been trying to use Stark’s decryption program to get into their camera feed and when we saw it… we needed to talk to you before the police saw it. There’s a good chance that Tony might have seen it already by the time you got here though.”

     “Let me see,” Wade demanded.

     Rogers shifted away from the table in front of him. Wade approached the laptop in the center and Falcon moved to type on the keyboard. After a second, he cued up the video and pressed play.

     Wade watched the silent video as three men sat around the plastic card-table, drinking beer and playing cards. One stood up from the table and left out the door down out of frame. After a couple of minutes, another man stood up and let the first man back inside. The door must lock shut when closed. They all sat back down and Sam fast-forwarded through another minute or two.

     Suddenly, all three men looked up in the direction of the door. The first man tentatively stood back up and walked to the door, his mouth moving but it was hard to tell what he could have been saying.

     He stepped out of frame but immediately he was crashing backwards onto the floor. He landed on his left hand and ass hard while the other hand was clamped around his throat, blood streaming between his fingers.

     Clear as day, _Deadpool_  strolled into the room and shot the leg of one man scrambling to get up from the table. The drug dealer fell to the ground as his leg gave out, mouth open in a silent scream.

     It was quick work as the man in red and black sliced through the unprepared men. When he was done, he turned slowly to look back at the door, looking up as he saw the camera and actually _waved_.

_Who the fuck?_

     “Wade, what happened here?” Falcon asked.

     “That isn’t me!” Wade shouted, pointing to the screen. “It wasn’t me! I fucking swear, I’ve been with Peter all day, you have to believe me!” he begged, turning towards Cap.

     Rogers surprised him. “I believe you.”

     Wade, who was about to defend himself, stopped.

     “Wait, you do?”

     “Yes, but that means there’s someone who wants us to believe it was you.”

     “Any ideas who?” Sam asked. He didn’t look as trusting as Rogers, but it was enough.

     “I… I don’t know,” he admitted. It wasn’t like Deadpool was known for making friends after all.

     Dread filled his heart. This couldn’t be good and it was only a matter of time before the police had this footage. However, Peter flashed through his mind and he forgot all about what was going to happen with the police.

     “I have to go.”

     “Wade, wait--” Steve began.

     He was almost at the door. “I have to go check on Peter,” he said.

     “Go find him, then both of you come meet us at Stark Tower. We’ll get this settled,” Rogers said.

     Wade lingered in the doorway but then hurried off down the hall. He refused to panic and actually run even though it took all of his determination.

 

     ~*~

 

     Deadpool was standing on the rooftop of the theater building. The wind was whipping up fiercely, carrying the voices and sounds of the bustling streets below up high. Peter landed softly on the edge of the rooftop, not trying to be quiet. The older man didn’t turn to look at him, but he guessed that Wade might have known he was there.

     “Wade? I'm here now…”

     The merc just stood near the edge of the roof, his attention somewhere on the street below.

     “Wade? Is something wrong?” Peter tried to inch the distance between them closed.

     The merc finally turned to face him. Peter saw his fist clenched around something, maybe fabric, in his large hand.

     “What did Cap want to talk about?” He hoped his voice sounded steady despite the nerves he suddenly felt. He didn’t like how quiet Wade was being. “Did something bad happen?”

     “No,” the older man said. “Not yet.”

     Peter's spidey-sense went off like a siren in his head. Peter opened his mouth to speak when Wade’s hands flew up to his face, one pressed hard against his nose and mouth over his mask and the other on the back of his head to hold him in place.

     The eye-watering stench of chemicals flooded into his throat and lungs, burning when his chest heaved in panic. He threw his hands up to grab at the merc’s hand on his face, but his head swam and he couldn’t get a strong enough grasp to overpower him. Black spots danced before his eyes and it was getting increasingly difficult to make his limbs move. He frantically struggled, hoping to shake the other man off of him as he kicked and jerked. However, it felt like he was falling asleep without his permission.

     Before even a minute had passed, Peter’s hands slid off of the merc’s forearm and his small body finally ragdolled in his arms. The larger man dropped the cloth wet with chloroform onto the rooftop and hoisted the spider up over his shoulder.

     “That’s what you get for trusting him,” the man said. With one last glance around, he took off into the shadows.


	7. Choices

     Wade’s heart pounded anxiously in his chest by the time he got to Peter’s apartment. He knocked his fist on the door and waited.

     And… waited.

     He knocked again. “Peter?” he asked but he got no response. Pressing his ear to the door he tried listening but there was nothing.

     Real fear sank in.

     Wade barely resisted body slamming the door down and instead tried to calmly reach into one of his pouches to pull out a credit card. He stuck the piece of plastic into the door jamb and with a strong grip on the knob, jimmied the door open.

     “Peter?” he called out, but the small space was empty.

     Inside, were a small stack of cardboard boxes near the door. Resting on top was a battered file folder. Wade’s heart sank to his stomach when he read the cover.

     Snatching it up, he frantically began looking through it. There were dozens of government official reports, all with SHIELD’s letterhead. Next were pages of police reports and photographs of everything: the burnt rubble of the laboratory, scorched gurneys, blown apart oxygen tanks-- anything not turned to ash.

     Underneath that stack were what appeared to be notes from the project itself. Wade saw research papers on the serum, scrawled in pencil and signed at the bottom by Killebrew himself. There were logs and logs of patient’s daily torture programs in Ajax’s neat handwriting. That was followed by a stack of Polaroids, each a picture of anyone Wade had ever seen there including the employees with their names written in sharpie beneath. He even found a photo of himself, face sunken and tired from the cancer eating away at him.

     Wade threw the file back down as if the paper had burned him. Had Peter read this? Where had he even gotten it?

     Peter’s backpack was on the floor next to the boxes and Wade grabbed it. His suit was missing. Why would he go out as Spiderman if he knew Wade was meeting him here?

     With more questions by the second, he tried to keep his hand steady enough to pull out his cell.

     He called Peter and held his breath while it rang. Finally, the line clicked mid-ring.

     “Peter?” he nearly shouted.

     A dark laugh came from the other end of the line. “Not quite.”

     “Who the fuck is this? Where’s Peter?”

     “Oh, your little boyfriend? He’s right here next to me, a little worse for wear but I have him so tranqued up that he probably doesn’t feel a thing. Maybe.” The man’s voice had a distinct Russian accent to it and something about it was so _familiar_. “Me though? I doubt you’d remember me after all these years. As a matter of fact, last time I saw you, you still had your good looks and were strapped to a metal table.”

     “Wait a minute… Kravinoff?” Wade asked.

     “It’s Chameleon now, asshole. Just like you’re Deadpool now, thanks to Ajax.”

     “I’m not thanking that shit-stain for crap!”

     Wade remembered Dmitri Kravinoff alright. He had only been in the Weapon X program for two weeks when another “patient” had mutated: Kravinoff. Francis had been so pleased and distracted the whole day that no one had even come for Wade to beat, shock, or burn him.

     However, instead of being shipped off, Francis had found his mutation so beneficial he kept him for himself. Kravinoff would be sent out and every now and then would return happily, mission completed. Wade had begun to despise the way he had bent over backwards just to kiss that fucker’s ass.

     “You are going to be in a world of hurt when I get my fucking hands on you,” Wade growled.

     “No, no, no Wilson. It is you that is going to pay tonight. Now, I’m going to give you two choices. You can either go to Stark Tower and stop the ton of TNT that I have placed underneath in the sewers, OR you can come here to where we both mutated, just in time to watch me pull the trigger on the gun that I have pressed to your boyfriend’s head.”

     “You sick _FUCK_! How do I even know that you really have him?”

     “You want to hear him?” Chameleon teased. Wade could hear the phone shift and Kravinoff’s voice away from the phone hiss out, “speak.”

     “Wade?” Peter squeaked out. His voice was raspy and his breath hitched like he was crying.

     “Peter?! Peter are you okay?” he shouted.

     “I’m sorry, Wade, I’m so, so sorry. He looked just like you,” Peter hiccuped. “I should have known it wasn’t you, my spidey-sense never goes off around you, but it did. I’m so sorry.”

     “Shhhh, Peter, it’s alright, baby boy. Everything’s going to be okay,” Wade rambled, panicked. “I’m going to find you, just hold on for me, sweetheart.”

     “No, Wade.”

     “No? Wh-what you do mean?”

     A sob wrenched out of Peter before he spoke. “You have to stop that bomb, Red,” he said resolutely.

     “Bullshit,” Wade said. He was shaking his head angrily. He was about to object more when Peter interrupted him.

     “You know why _I_ love _you_?”

     “Peter, don’t--”

     “Because I know that in the end, you’ll always do the right thing.” Then, the sound of his breathing disappeared.

     “Is that what you are going to do, Wilson? The right thing?” Chameleon laughed and the line cut off abruptly.

     Wade unglued his feet from his spot and dashed out the door, flying down the stairwell and out onto the street. Ajax’s laboratory was only about a mile away and he ran a full speed. He frantically searched his phone and found “Asshat” and hit call.

     “Comeoncomeoncomeon,” he chanted breathlessly as he sprinted but the phone went to voicemail.

     “Fuck!” he shouted. It frightened an old man he passed on the sidewalk who he narrowly missed.

     The voicemail beeped and Wade scrambled to get everything out.

     “Chameleon’s the one behind the killings! He’s put a bomb underneath Stark Tower, you _NEED_ to evacuate the whole block right fucking now. Dammit Stark, he’s got Peter at Ajax’s old lab. I’m going after him. You have to make sure everyone’s safe. I need your help Stark, pick up the goddamn phone!”

     He hung up with a curse, panting while he tried to dial Rogers. He hoped that Cap had made it there by now. Unfortunately, it went to voicemail as well and he tried his best to not leave out anything before hanging up again.

     He was getting close. Rounding a corner, he put his head down and just ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed how Chameleon at one point receives a serum that allows him to actually shape-shift rather than material disguises and I wanted to play off of that and bring him into the Deadpool movie universe. Also, sorry about this one being kind of short, it was originally part of the next chapter but as I wrote it, it really needed a breather between the two. I'm going to try to finish chapter 8 tonight and post it tomorrow during work ;)


	8. Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning for violence, kidnapping, blood and gore in his chapter.

     In the spot where Ajax’s laboratory burned to the ground now stood a massive, concrete warehouse. There were piles of car tires in heaps, beer bottles, and syringes scattered around the weedy lot. Whatever business this building had been made for had clearly abandoned it long ago. Maybe the land was cursed.

     Wade desperately wished he had back-up but there was nothing he could do now. He pushed into the warehouse without further hesitation. The cement frame of the building was heavy, but the space was mostly barren inside. Wade walked through two dark, small front rooms to find light creeping underneath the metal door before him. He rushed towards it and pushed inside.

     A construction stand-light was plugged in near the right wall of a huge room, filling the empty, shadowy space. Fake-Deadpool stood in the center of the room, looming next to Peter.

     Peter was chained to a huge wooden chair tightly. The links of chain dug in deep around his chest and arms and they looked to be the only thing holding him upright in the seat. His mask was on the ground behind him and a black cloth blindfolded his eyes. Wade could see the large, purple bruises blossoming out from under the fabric on his right cheek and his lip was split open.

     For a terrifying moment, he thought he might be too late but a second later he watched as Peter’s head picked up slowly at the sound of the door.

     {{Spidey!}}

     [[Thank fuck.]]

     “Well, well, well. Look who’s here,” Chameleon drawled. He looked exactly like Wade in his replicated suit yet he spoke in his native accent.

     “Wade?” Peter croaked out.

     “Yeah Spidey, it’s me,” he breathed out. “Don’t be mad, Webs, but I told you I’d always come back to you.”

     A pained laugh huffed out of Peter’s chest and he shook his head. “I’m not mad,” he said sadly.

     Chameleon lifted the pistol in his hand to Peter’s head. “I was hoping you’d come for the show. I’m actually glad that you chose to let those people die.”

     Wade refused to respond, praying that Stark and Rogers had gotten his messages in time. He would just have to trust them.

     “Now, it’s his turn,” Kravinoff said. Dread filled Wade's heart and he knew he had to act.

     “Why are you even doing this?!” Wade asked, trying to distract the man as he took a slow step forward.

     “Because you fucking killed him! Ajax!” Chameleon shouted, making Wade freeze. “I needed him to fix me and you went and murdered him!”

     “What?” Wade asked. “Fix you?”

     “Yes! That serum, whatever he gave me, something’s wrong with it! My body, it’s... it’s getting harder and harder to keep its shape!”

     The gun in his hand shook against Peter’s temple and Wade watched as the vision of his own mask dissolved into blank, white, nothingness before solidifying again. He had to keep talking and hope that he could ease ever closer.

     “Ajax lied!” Wade yelled. “He lied to the both of us! Just like he lied that he could fix what happened to my skin, he lied about fixing you! That’s what he fucking does Kravinoff! He was never going to help you!”

     “We’ll never know, now will we? Because you went and shot him IN THE HEAD!”

     Peter jumped in his seat and winced as Chameleon pressed the gun harder.

     “So when I heard that a new version of Killebrew’s formula was being made, I realized that it was my last chance. AND IT’S CRAP!” Kravinoff was losing his cool too fast for Wade's liking. “So I killed them all, any dealer I could find, all while wearing your face. I planted the explosives and kidnapped Spiderman and once they see that YOU killed the drug dealers, blew up the Avengers and murdered your boyfriend you will never be free again.”

     “You had other choices… you didn’t have to do this,” Wade reasoned, risking another step.

     “No,” Chameleon said, shaking his head. “There’s not enough time left. And if I’m going down, I’m taking you with me. You being immortal took killing you off the table, but…”

     He leaned down so his face was close to Peter’s, voice laced with pure hate.

     “I know, that every time you think of his pretty face, you’ll remember how his brains looked sprayed across the floor, and you’ll wish you _could_ die, murderer.”

     “You’re the murderer!” Peter suddenly shouted, making Chameleon wince. “You’re the one who killed those dealers in that apartment!”

     “SHUT YOUR MOUTH!” Kravinoff boomed. The butt of his gun came down hard on Peter’s face and Wade heard the sickening crunch of bone from the force. A gurgling cough left the brunet and his head dropped, completely knocked out. Red, thick lines of blood began pouring from his nose, coating the bottom half of his face and dripping onto his lap.

     Wade didn't think, he just flew into action the second he saw his chance. He tackled Kravinoff to the floor with as much force as he could. Chameleon was caught off guard and the gun dropped to the ground. He was tough though and Wade couldn’t get a pin on him while they grappled. The villain managed to get into his pocket though and pulled out a cell phone to hit the center button.

     A deafening boom went off around them and the structure of the warehouse seemed to rattle like an earthquake had shook it. The glass windows blew inward and flames licked in from the back and right wall where the TNT had been embedded outside. Huge cracks split along the cement walls and the screeching sound of the metal roof creaked dangerously.

     Twinkling shards of glass fell over the two men and with lightning speed Kravinoff grabbed one of the large pieces and dug it into Wade’s side underneath his rib cage. Agonizing pain blossomed out and punched the air from his chest. Wade's hands came up and grabbed Kravinoff’s wrists tightly as he straddled the villain but the glass shifted in his abdomen, cutting into his stomach where the acid began scorching his intestines. He knew he’d wouldn't be able to keep his grip for much longer.

     {{Being disemboweled is the worst!}} Yellow bitched.

     [[Not a great time to bleed out here…]] White advised.

     Chameleon’s head on the ground whipped to the side and Wade saw that the pistol was right next to them. He couldn’t let himself pass out and give Kravinoff the chance to grab it.

     “WILSON!” a metallic voice called out and Wade almost couldn’t believe he heard it.

     Blasting into the room from the way Wade had burst in was Tony Stark, fully suited up, pulse reactor glowing in his palm as he aimed at the pair.

     “Shoot him, Stark!” Wade yelled as strongly as he could through the pain.

     “No, he’s going to kill Peter!” Kravinoff shouted, sounding exactly like the merc.

     “You son of a _bitch,_ ” Wade hissed.

     “Which one are you, Deadpool? I can’t tell!” Tony said. The metal roof groaned loudly and a scaffolding beam near the top came crashing down next to Peter.

     “It’s me, shoot him!” Chameleon lied.

     “Jesus Christ, just fucking shoot both of us,” Wade growled.

     “Can do,” Tony replied happily and before Wade lost his grip a powerful BLAST had him flying across the ground. He flipped over once, scraping along the sprinkled glass and landed hard on his back. His head smacked hard on the cement floor and everything went black around the edges of his vision for a moment before he groaned and fumbled his hands to his side. Grasping the shard of glass, he yanked it out and cursed loudly at the pain. At least now that the piece was gone his body could try to weave himself back together.

     Chameleon was somewhere to his right and screaming at the top of his lungs. Wade achingly craned his neck to see the other man spasming on the ground. Stark's blast must have fried the tech on his replicating suit and the jolts of electricity shocked through his body as it malfunctioned.

     Kravinoff's face blended rapidly, becoming dozens of different people before the illusion disappeared entirely. A blank, empty face revealed beneath the fake skin and the man finally went stock still as he died.

     Damaged ceiling supports finally crumbled away from fractured walls. Boulder-sized chunks of concrete came down on the floor, smashing and chipping sharp, jagged pieces that shot like shrapnel across the room. The last beams of metal finally bent without their support and the whole right side of the roof came down fast. Big pieces of sheet metal snapped apart and Wade felt one piece land on him like a truck going forty.

     It felt like eternity in the new, sudden silence as Wade laid pinned under the chunk of roof. Consciousness tried to slip away from him but adrenaline was thick in his veins.

     After only a minute passed, Wade finally attempted heaving the metal off of himself. Groaning at the wound screaming on his side, he instead got one hand on an edge and pulled himself out. Off to the side he heard the whirl of Stark's suit working to push rubble off as well. Standing took considerable effort as pain ricocheted through his abdominen but he managed to get his legs underneath him properly. 

     Wade spun around and in the center of the room was a huge mass of metal beams and sheeting.

     Peter was underneath somewhere and his heart froze.

     “STARK!” he screamed, lurching towards the roofing. Wade grabbed onto the largest piece of sheet metal and tried to hoist it but his side screamed in agony. Thankfully a second later Iron Man appeared at his side to help him lift and with the two of them it went easily.

     The chair had splintered into large pieces, allowing the metal chains to finally loosen around Peter's chest. However, Peter was completely still on the ground. Wade immediately dropped to the floor and lifted him into his arms, peeling off the blindfold.

     “No no no no no,” he chanted softly, terribly frightening at how limp the smaller man was in his arms. Wade ripped his own mask off and pressed his ear to Peter's chest.

     The soft beat of his heart thumped beneath the skin and Wade could feel the small expansions of his chest as he shallowly breathed. A relieved sob wrenched out of Wade against his will.

     “Give him to me,” Stark stated next to him.

     “What?” Wade’s head flew up to look at Iron Man and was surprised when Tony removed the faceplate of his suit.

     “He needs help right away and I can fly him to the medical bay at Stark Tower in under a minute,” the billionaire reasoned.

     “What about the bomb?”

     “Cap and Falcon confirmed it's dismantled and the area's secure.”

     Maybe it showed on Wade’s face how badly he didn’t want to let go, because Tony leaned down to place a hand on Wade’s shoulder.

     “It's okay, Wilson, we'll both be waiting for you to get there. I'll alert the police and they can come collect Kravinoff's body.”

     Wade dropped his head, tears spilling out, but he lifted Peter to shift him carefully into Stark's arms. Secure in his grasp, Iron Man rocketed them out the open roof.

     Wade gripped his injured side tight and bellowed a roar into the new silence, curling in on himself as he knelt on the floor. The next breath of air rushed into his chest smoother than the last and he glanced between his knitted fingers. The skin was just about closed, maybe not so much for his guts, but he had been through worse.

     He shuffled to his feet and began navigating the debris.

 

     ~*~

 

     Stark was on the 15th floor of his tower when Wade dragged himself into the elevator. His side was stitched back together and now that he stopped running he could breathe again. The elevator doors opened with a chime and there was Stark in the hall. He stood next to a door with a number one above it.

     Getting close, Wade saw Peter laying on a medical bed through the window. His face was bandaged and his right eye was so bruised Wade wondered if he could even open it fully. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully though; face soft and relaxed.

     It took a second to make his throat work but he found his voice.

     “How is he?”

     Stark stood with his arms crossed, watching Peter, and shrugged softly.

     “The drug that Kravinoff gave him, a derivative of ketamine, has already worked it's way almost completely out of his blood, which is a good sign,” Tony said with a nod. “His nose is very much broken and his right cheekbone is fractured, but both should heal themselves with enough time.”

     “Is… is there anything else?”

     “He's gonna have some serious bruising for sure and I'm keeping him here overnight to make sure he didn't get a concussion from that roof, but… he's lucky.”

     Incredible guilt tore at him worse than the glass had. Peter _was lucky_. Lucky he wasn't dead because of Wade.

     Stark shuffled awkwardly and cleared his throat. “Well, I uh, should apologize for believing it was you the whole time instead of Chameleon. _And_ thank you for warning us about the bomb but we both know those aren't my strongest skills.”

     Stark started shuffling back as he spoke, sticking his hands in his pockets. “But I'll have one of the bots drag up a cot for you.”

     Wade didn't know what to say so he merely gave a ‘thanks’ as the other man left. After a second, he opened the door quietly to slip inside. He was going to wait right there until Peter woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's going to be one last chapter because who really wants to end with angst, amirite?


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sorry about the slow update but it's finally here! Thanks for sticking around =)

     The sound of the shower running beat through the silence of Wade’s apartment. Peter had been deemed healthy enough and was sent home the next day from Stark Tower. He now was in the bathroom, taking a much desired shower while Wade sat on the couch.

     He had washed and changed at Stark Tower while Peter had been looked over once more but even still, Wade was completely worn down. Sleep had been impossible throughout the night and now that Peter was here, _safe_ , he finally succumbed to the strain. Elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands, Wade attempted to squash the shaking in his arms.

     It felt as though the adrenaline from last night had scorched every nerve ending, leaving a gaping numbness in his heart. Every breath was like ice in his lungs, turning his blood cold. It had been the fear: the absolute horror of waiting to hear the first heartbeat in the brunet’s chest that shook something dangerously loose in his composure. Listening to the familiar sounds of the shower running, knowing that Peter was only a mere few feet away, was the only thing that helped him focus on breathing. He closed his eyes and tried to meditate on the drum of water on tile.

     Time slipped as Wade drifted but after a couple of minutes that felt like hours, Wade noticed that he was now sitting in the silence left from the shower shutting off.

     Wade lifted his head when he heard the pad of feet and Peter come to a stop in front of him. His eyes went wide at the sight. Peter standing before him was fresh out of the shower. His damp hair was combed back and he hadn’t bothered to put anything on before walking out to the living room. In his hand he loosely held the bottle of lube from the merc’s nightstand.

     Wade ran his eyes up and down Peter’s body. He took inventory of every ebony splotch of bruise and scabbed over scrape on Peter's skin that his body was healing at a quick pace.

     The right side of Peter’s face was no longer swollen but an angry, purple field of bruises stained his cheek and around the bridge of his nose where a cut was healing over. The unblemished side was a stark comparison and Wade’s gaze flickered to take in the stunning details of his boyfriend's face. The way he held himself seemed different from the other times him and Wade had been intimate. His very presence standing above him demanded acknowledgement and respect.

     This was the Spiderman side of Peter: bold and dominant yet here he was, not only out of his suit but as nude as the day he was born. His eyes were piercing and Wade didn’t dare move a muscle. It was like he had transfixed him to the spot, turning his limbs to cement.

     Peter moved one knee up beside Wade’s thigh and like liquid, slid into his lap, dropping the bottle next to them. With a demanding tug he prompted Wade to pull his own t-shirt off and throw it aside. Peter's hands came up to wrap around the back of Wade’s neck and the warmth from his palms spread down underneath the scarred skin and into Wade's spine.

     Wade dared to place his palms on the sides of Peter's thighs. He squeezed the strong muscles there with deep appreciation. Despite Peter's small build, Wade knew exactly how much power thrummed underneath the surface of skin. The thought was such a turn on that Wade immediately started getting hard in his jeans regardless of how tired he had been a couple minutes ago.

     He let his hands continue to massage the brunet's legs. Wade was actually trying his best to behave even though his hands itched to reach up and feel how Peter's cock was starting to swell as he watched it.

     Peter’s lips touched his, a soft graze between them that felt more like he was testing the water to see what Wade would do. The older man leaned forward instinctively, chasing Peter’s lips for a moment before catching himself and holding still again-- waiting for Peter to make the decision. Peter simply placed his forehead against Wade’s and pulled one hand away from his neck to pick up the bottle.

     “Wha--” Wade whispered. Peter was pouring the clear liquid onto his right hand and slicking his fingers up with his thumb as he interrupted Wade.

     “Just… let me,” Peter said, a soft offering.

     Peter reached his arm behind himself as he knelt above Wade, slowly sliding one finger into himself. Wade's large, rough hands flew up to the boy’s tiny waist. The muscles of his stomach furrowed into a v-shape along his hip bones and Wade used his grip there to sit himself up straight enough to reach Peter’s lips.

     He couldn’t wait any longer-- he just had to catch the smaller man with a deep kiss so he could swallow down the itty bitty sounds that escaped Peter’s throat.  

     The kiss was messy and Wade took full advantage of Peter being distracted as he fingered himself open. Wade’s finesse practically flew out the window over the long minutes as he desperately savored the taste of Peter's lips and tongue, his smooth skin as their noses and cheeks brushed, and the little puffs of breath that tingled his lips every time Peter broke away to pant.

     A hushed groan slipped out of Peter, his eyes shutting and eyebrows knitting together for a moment. A burning desire to know how many fingers he was up to washed over Wade and he was definitely hard as a rock now.

     Peter's eyes fluttered back open again. Absentmindedly, Wade realized that he had been holding his breath and sucked air in hoping to keep himself steady.

     Peter groaned while he slipped his hand back out of himself. Fingers still slick, he messily popped the button and unzipped the fly on Wade’s jeans. He hissed in pleasure at the way Peter reached in to wrap a tight hand around Wade’s cock and squeeze the hard length. The pair worked together to wriggle his jeans down enough to mid-thigh but Peter was already using his slippery hand to get Wade nice and wet.

     Now that Peter had deemed him slick enough he slowed down, merely holding Wade’s cock in a firm grip and rubbing his thumb up and down along a vein on the underside. The scarred skin was so sensitive, more so than before the cancer, but Peter’s tender hand was lighting up his spine with tiny jolts of pleasure.

     Wade waited, watching with everlasting patience as Peter's hand traced the intricate line work of scars on his cock. The boy explored and Wade would have given anything to know what he was thinking as he took in the view of his mangled skin.

     Then Peter was shifting in Wade’s lap, scooting up so their chests were pressed together. He turned his head, reaching behind himself to line Wade up to his entrance and then looked back at the older man.

     Peter nodded his head, looking for a confirmation and Wade blinked slowly and nodded in return.

     Wade didn’t dare speak, afraid to break whatever spell Peter had woven between the silence they shared. Instead, he soaked in the sound of the smaller man’s breathing in his space. Glorious air that passed into Peter's lungs and his blood that pumped through his heart. The head of Wade’s cock breached the ring of muscle after a dragged out moment and when Peter’s breath hitched faintly at the stretch Wade knew that he would hear that sound in his _dreams._

     Everything felt too good to be real and the boxes chatted endlessly.

     {{Why hasn’t he left us yet?}} Yellow sighed.

     [[It’s bound to happen,]] White remorsed.

     {{There’s nothing we could do to actually deserve this.}}

     [[We almost lost him.]]

     Peter was inching himself down at a maddening pace, like he had all the time in the world. Wade figured that really, he did. Peter could take as long as he damn well pleased because there was no way Wade could do anything besides give himself willingly to the person he cherished.

     {{Holy fuck he feels soooo good!}}

     [[In our lap--]]

     {{On our cock--}}

     [[How would we live without him?]]

     “I can hear you thinking from here,” Peter said. He sounded a little breathless as he finally sat on Wade’s lap, as far as he could go. “Is it the boxes?”

     The air in Wade’s throat caught and his eye contact faltered nervously. “Yes,” he whispered, ashamed about how much he truly was a freak.

     Peter didn’t look at him with disgust or fear though. He never did.

     “What are they saying?” he asked. His face seemed sincere and perhaps a little amused.

     Wade swallowed. “They’re just so happy that you’re here,” he confessed.

     Peter’s eyes crinkled as he smiled and he leaned in for another kiss. Wade licked into his mouth and tightened his grasp on his hips, relishing the feeling of just being inside the smaller man.

     When Peter began to move, Wade had to tip his head back and moan. Cool oxygen seeped into his body and it amplified the rush of pleasure which quaked all the way down to his boots.

     All Peter was doing was rocking his hips minutely, keeping Wade deep inside. The motion was lazy and unhurried while the pair took satisfaction from the intimate connection.

     Wade took his sweet time running his hands over every inch of Peter's skin. He was mindful of any tender spots while he petted; sliding up and down the boy's spine, along his ass and hips, trailing all the way down to the cute ankles that Wade's large hands wrapped around easily.

     Wade’s pressed his forehead to Peter's chest and pulled long, slow breaths in. His skin was so warm and the scent of sweet soap radiated off of him, making Wade dizzy. The watercolor marks of bruising sprinkled across Peter's collarbones and chest and Wade used his soft tongue to lave at the edges like he could possibly wash the marks off if he was gentle enough.

     He worked his mouth down to Peter's right nipple. The small, rosy circle of flesh was pebbled hard and called pleadingly for the older man to latch his lips around it and suck in little pulses.

     When Peter mewled in the most pleading gasps, Wade spent countless minutes working each nipple over relentlessly before kissing over to the other side.

     Peter's cock pressed against Wade's abs, smearing precome at the edge of his belly button as he leaked. His dick was flushed a dark rosy hue but neither of them reached down to touch.

     With a small nudge of his hips, Wade realized he could press directly against Peter's prostate when the smaller man shifted his hips backwards again. After a handful of more thrusts, Peter tightened his grip on Wade's shoulders.

     Wade watched as Peter trembled apart on his lap, head tipped down to his chest and moaning powerfully. Without being touched Peter's cock flexed up and pulsed come onto both of them as Wade tried to hold the shaking boy in place.

     Peter kept rocking his way through his orgasm and Wade whimpered as his ridiculously tight ass twitched around his cock. Instead of slowing down though, Peter started actually riding Wade harder.

     “Come on, Red,” Peter gasped and tightened his arms around Wade's shoulders to help push himself down vigorously. “You too, babe.”

     Wade had already been so close it didn't take more than a minute to obey. He tried not to hurt him as his hands squeezed Peter's hips and back tightly but he barely could think of anything while his balls drew tight and started coming hard. His cock throbbed while he filled the smaller man. Wade whimpered through the waves of pleasure and Peter leaned in to kiss him while he came back down.

     Wade hugged Peter close and planned on getting them in bed where he was going to kiss him all night, pressed together with nothing between them.

     After all, Peter was here in _their home_ and he was going to keep him safe.


End file.
